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" He didn't do anything, so I asked "Where is he or she?" He gestured towards a desk. I went there and an older woman quizzed me. I repeated my request. She said: "Is this about an account or a loan?" I began to get impatient. This was not good customer service."No," I said. "My wife and I already have accounts here. I'd like to talk to someone in authority about investments." Could you give me some idea of the amount involved?" Certainly. Between two and three mil."She looked as though I'd hit. I could see that she was confused. I was also confused to know that it happens between all mother and son and it is quite normal. Without looking to me or father she went to the kitchen and brought a glass of milk. Father took it from her and gave it to me. I stood silent keeping the glass in hands.-“Come on Son. Take it. Mummy is not angry with you. Are you angry Ramani? You must not be. Baloo has promised me that he will not do it again. It’s O.K. now.”- Father tried to normalize the. When I reached the top of the stairs, he immediately grabbed me and started kissing me. It was sloppy and intense. His stubble scratched my face, his hands grabbed every part of my body. He stopped, pulled back to look at me and started to undo his pants. I panted, watching him. He dropped them down and I could see the outline of his massive cock in his boxers.“Take your shirt off.” I did. “Take your pants off.” I did. We stood there for a second, just looking at each other in our underwear. He. Fogg played, not to win, but for the sake of playing. The game was in his eyes a contest, a struggle with a difficulty, yet a motionless, unwearying struggle, congenial to his tastes.Phileas Fogg was not known to have either wife or children, which may happen to the most honest people; either relatives or near friends, which is certainly more unusual. He lived alone in his house in Saville Row, whither none penetrated. A single domestic sufficed to serve him, with a woman coming in thrice.
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