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AM I REALLY THE MISTRESS?

4:00 AM. From the darkened room only the source of moonlight lit the room, now set on the West horizon, Mort stays awake. The maiden in his arms slept soundly and deeply, now hugging him tightly. His eyes dawned on her perfectly sculpted face. He's been staring at her for hours. Every exquisite detail of her visage was now carved on his mind. He let his arm be her pillow. She snuggles. Lips slightly parted, her face still pressed against his wide chest and there Sumire cutely snoring.

Thirty minutes have passed, and Mort decided to get up. Gently and slowly, he removed her arms enwrapped him. She slightly moaned so Mort gave her a pillow to embrace. After he manages to escape the maiden's tight embrace, Mort steals one last glance before closing the bedroom door. Wearing a black boxer with no upper garment, revealing his raw masculine chest, he went to the kitchen counter and started to get busy.

Mort prepares a traditional breakfast for the maiden. A delicious art of buttermilk pancak
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