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Sixty One

Conchita smiled to herself and then added, “But it’s not really so bad. Mom’s syrup is always as sweet as sugar, and she cums in quarts ... as you just saw. And when we’re finally ready for sleep, I’m being held tightly in her arms and feel her lovely nipples moving against mine ... Yum!”

While Conchita lapped up her mother’s syrup and then cleaned the floor, Donna said, “A new country heard from: Who’s Jim Garçia?”

“Officially, he’s Jaime Garçia,” Maria explained, Conchita’s mouth then being occupied with her mother’s delectable pussy. “He’s Alfredo Garçia’s grandson.”

“And who’s Alfredo Garçia?” Donna persisted.

“He controls the entire Chicano community in Southern California, anyway, if not in a much larger territory than that. When Alfredo Garçia tells a Chicano to jump, the only possible response is, ‘How high do you wish me to jump, Don Alfredo?’ Anyway, that’s who he is.”

“And how did you get involved?”

“I was representing a group of gardeners,” Maria replied. “Jim set up a mee
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