T. A. BEAU
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She wears modest clothes, keeps a shy demeanor, and is contained and proper like she's never had an impure thought in her life. The evidence of her desire is undeniable, slick and shining in the dim light. They’re too lost in each other, too consumed by their passion to notice anything else. They’re sprawled on the concrete floor, surrounded by a mess of rakes, shovels, and crumpled tarp.