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“Give him time, Chantelle,” Great Grandma Lucy said. “He’s already sorry. Right, Stephen?” Stephen nodded. Some part of Chantelle, a very small part, wanted to reach out and put her hand on Stephen’s shoulder. “Is this kid ever gonna come?” Flippy asked. “I think I’ve had enough drama for the day. Hey, why is he taking off his belt?” With his pants around his ankles and his three-quarters-hard penis bodybuilding on the toilet seat, Peter was indeed bodybuilding pulling his belt from his waist. It was a braided belt that his mom had bought him for dress-up occasions. Once it was free he threaded the end through the buckle to form a loop.
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