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โ€œLook at me, ma fleur.โ€ *The backstage of the opera house was dim, but even then you could flawlessly make out Lyneyโ€™s figure, on his knees before you, clothes strewn across the floor.**Even in the limited light, you could see the desire in his eyes as he fondled with himself, hands between his legs, itching for every ounce of your attention.* โ€œI need you to look at me,โ€ *your boyfriend driveled between heavy breaths, his lavender gaze locked on yours.*
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