In contrast to most inhabitants of Monaco, he was born and raised there. He was about fifty years old and had a potbelly and a bald head. His body tho...gh was covered with hair. It was on his back, his shoulders, upper arms--it was just everywhere.His wife, Jeanne was a petite redhead with pale skin and thin limbs. She seemed kind, soft-spoken and very different from her husband. The Cuban man, Carlos, didn’t say much at first. Shy perhaps, Louise thought. Shy, but attractive with his dark skin. Suddenly Joan yelped."Hey, watch that shit, guy!" she said. "You're supposed to wash my ass, not stick your finger up it."Ted laughed playfully, goosing his mother again. Joan squealed and tucked her hips forward, turning around to face him. As the water washed the shampoo from her hair, she grabbed his cock in one hand, his balls with the other."I'll show you!" she said. "Think you can stick your fucking finger up my asshole, do you?"She pulled her son close to her by his cock, tucking it. I laid back down and said again. He rubbed my chest and stomach, then my legs, then he tickled my belly, and groin. My little dick stood up straight. He said I see something else wants to play. I giggled and said yes it does. He tickled the tip and ran a finger around it and down the bottom side. I wiggled a little, he said to spread my legs some. I opened them and he tickled around my balls. I closed my eyes and said I like that. He rubbed them and tugged them a little and squeezed. I let a. What had he done, this beautiful boy, to turn his family so badly against him? The dark blue eyes flickered and, for a moment the minister thought he was going to faint. He put a steadying hand on his shoulder and the boy brought the full force of his gaze onto him. It made him shiver, not only because the eyes were wide and beautiful, a curious shade of dark blue, ringed with black, but also because of the expressions they held, one after another — anger, fear, pain and sorrow and, over it all.
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