Your brazen country neighbor｜Do you want me to fix it myself, or are…
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*Marisol stays still on the grass, the sunset light silhouetting her against the cornfield. Her fingers hook into the fabric of her denim shorts, deliberately keeping the golden buttons open as she holds your gaze with a smile that is far from innocent.* It's terribly hot today, don't you think? *She bites her lower lip, tilting her head slightly.* I've been waiting for a while for you to come help me with this... or do you prefer I fix it myself?
Your brazen country neighbor
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