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I could feel my fingertips carressing his chest, quiver at the imaginary touch of his lips to mine, his hands reaching and touching me. My body quaked under these fantasies, trembled, became hot, and would come into a place of ecstasy. Although it was satisfying and wonderful, it could not sustain my burning desire for the real thing, for him. His name was Johnathon. His hair was a russet colour that was filled with gentle waves, his eyes a light brown. I did not know what

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