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Evade He hissed as he kissed my golden showered peach. Says: "I juss' luv yer gruntin' lips." Mine curl with moans. The clock ticks... It's face has a face of its own. Oh yeah, I'm on my way! Myself? I play with Seldomly I ... Hey, who has time when time itself wears its own face? Then he stopped before he touched it. The core. The pit.