Journals of a Psychopath.



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Sir Richard in the dream

Observing her, Sir Richard's objective was clear, and he showed his lust. She retired to the tent and the airstreams tucked under the edges threatened to rip it from the pegs.
      “I am coming,” Sir Richard said.
He entered the tent and I heard the whine from Lady Flarice as her orgasm mounted.
A lamp shone in the tent, the shadows of Lady Flarice and Sir Richard enlarged. Creeping up to the temporary shelter and listening, as he gained his pleasure, she giggled, the soft tinkle struck my heart.
      “I am falling in love,” Lady Flarice said.
I was rabid and I hoped she did not mean what she had said.


She waited for Jayne she was fuming she scrunched her face, when Jayne sauntered into the Pit Stop yard. Rheanna launched to Jayne. Spilling on the ground and the women thrashed, rolled over, the lads watched, Jayne endeavored to clout Rheanna, but she missed.
      “You are a fat frump,” Jayne said.
Jayne thrust Rhea down and she jumped on her, Jayne was the better fighter, she thwacked Rheanna on her nose.
      “My nose you whore.”
The red-fluid streamed onto Rhea’s coat and her nose was swollen. Harry led Jayne from the yard and he studied me. Jayne tried to grab my attention she sauntered sexily, while he led her away. My eyes fixed on Perry and his arms around Rheanna.
      “Get your hands off.”
Perry relaxed his grip, Perry’s nervousness was apparent, and he investigated my fierce glare. Vaulting at Pep and shoving him into a car, he fell against it. He dived in my direction and I avoided his attempted assault.




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