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A Contract on Aunt Doris Part 1 The Job
“Let me help with that,” I said in my helpful Midwest tone. She turned to me with a slightly exasperated look on her face - her silver hair cut in a long pageboy, blue eyes, full lips, high cheekbones with the sprinkle of wrinkles and lines showing her age. She was wearing a grey sweatshirt that could barely contain the big tits swaying underneath the cotton material. I saw a hard nipple pushing against the fabric. “Thank you”, she gasped, a little out of breath. “No one in this...