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Mary smiled and told me that sometime you would like sex, that sex was the only reason you went out with me. She was wrong, but Folks we came close several times. The hayride was the closest-Valentines Day. There must have been thirty of us, bundled to your eye area with heavy parkas and colorful scarves and wild and crazy toques. I remember yours, the blue one with yellow tassels. Two horses from our ranch, one black and something brown, bells jingling from their harnesses, pulled that rickety hay wagon that seemed about to tip at intervals of turn. 21. Sit under
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