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I was starving and thirsty, I chewed at the pork, the stream quenched my thirst. The early light filtering down through the branches woke me. I sat and listened for an age but heard nothing except for the wind which had risen in the early hours. I followed the footsteps back to the beach, they were gone, the beach was empty, large waves dashed ashore. I saw the last boat being winched aboard, then I saw bodies being thrown over the side. A short while later, the sails were being unfurled. As the wind took hold, I could see the anchor leaving the water to be pulled aboard, the ship leaned with the wind and then she was moving fast towards the entrance of the bay. As the ship cleared the headland I could see massive waves smashing into her. The wind was now like a gale, the ship could not sail into it and it was being pushed sideways but to what still seemed like open water. Soon she would be hidden by the headland out of my sight. Then I saw her rise up as if lifted by a hidden hand, even with the wind and distance, I still heard the mighty crash of breaking timbers as she crashed back down. The ship lifted once more, then she was leaning over for a brief moment before with a lurch, the ship turned right over. It seemed only seconds before she was gone, not a sign of her remained. Even homemade with my little knowledge of the sea, I knew she had hit rocks hidden beneath the surface. I was alone with my grief, I cried and cried, sobbing until I had nothing left, then I crawled back to the trees to escape from both the wind and the rain that was now pouring. The storm lasted two days, during which time I shivered, seeking shelter where I could, until at last, the sun broke through the clouds and the winds went away. At the beach, waves still lashed onto the sands. The beach was littered with all manner of things washed up from the sunken ship. Instinct told me to gather whatever I found, I soon had several piles well clear of the water. Then I noticed the bodies, a little further along. The first was Mrs Peterson, one of amateur the other passengers, then I found my mother and father, strangely lying side by side on the sand at the water’s edge. The water had cleaned the blood away and somehow in death, teen they looked peaceful, it helped me through my grief. Here, I stopped my story, the memory too vivid in my mind, I had only been ten when babe I buried my parents. Again she held me as I wept uncontrollably before she led me to my bed, covering me with my blanket. Her hands stroking my hair as I let the years of hidden grief come pouring out. When I woke, I found her fast tight pussy asleep, lying on the floor beside my bed, she still had hold of my hand. She lifted her teen head and looked at his face, amateur his eyes narrowed to feral little slits as his lip curled, exposing the fangs in the right side of his mouth, his eyes unfocused as he stared off into space. Flynn’s eyes went wide as homemade Arthur began to caress his smooth chest and belly, letting out a soft gasp as those babe fingers began to slide in circular motions around his navel. She had many tight pussy questions and a lot to learn. Lisa looks at her husband behind Marcy. Her dress so tight that every single inch of her petite body was shown off to perfection. Story Twelve: Virgin Cherry Delight “what a mess.” I said as I walked into my daughter's room. After about five minutes of determined yanking and pulling, his cock started to firm up again. “What did she say?” he asked. “Yes, and I want you to play with your pussy in your ‘sleep’”