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Master and Margie 1
The curvy red head flung the towel over the shower rod and left it so it would drip water onto the floor. That would piss Master off. She giggled; what was the point of being punished if you weren’t guilty. She spent a few minutes blow-drying her hair. It was only damp since she had kept it pinned up. A couple of brush strokes and it fanned out behind her in flaming curtain down to her ass. Setting her hands on her hips she admired her reflection in the mirror. “Pretty damn good for forty...