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But he wasn't dead. He was just weird. The fortieth night was like the twentieth again. The fiftieth night was like the hundredth.So nearly every nigh..., a little after midnight, he falls apart. He'll roll into the other room, eventually fall asleep, and when he wakes up, he's a person again. He says it doesn't hurt, but I'm not sure if I believe him.We never called the doctor. What would we say? "Seems I turn into a tentacle monster for six hours every night! It's cured my insomnia, and I don't. ?I slowly close the jaws of the clamp onto myclit looking you deep the eye as I release the elastic in my hand it pullingour clits together.? Leaning into you I begin to fuck you withmy dildo, feeling the pull of the clamps on my clit with every stroke, Masterthrusting his hips up impaling you deeper onto his cock in time with mystrokes.? Enjoying the sound of yourmoans and groans, the mixture of pleasure and pain making your eyes seemdistant as you lose yourself in the sensations.?Already I. More

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