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Even Stevens: Bending Over Backwards And Forwards For A Birthday Gift Part 6
(Mf,oral)
by Dimes N. Nickels (be_kind_to_stasiak@yahoo.com)

Two weeks before Bobby's birthday, Ruby Mendel used the weekend as a release
from the constraints of school and her job. It didn't matter if Ms. Lovelson
berated her in front of the class, calling her an "insult to teenagers who
actually want to learn." And it didn't affect Ruby one iota when Mr.
Squirelli cursed her for confusing the Crunchy-Toasted Caramel-Cream Toast
with the Crunchy-Toasted Caramel-Lean Toast. Those words from authority
figures crumbled like the toast she served when her temporary vacation
arrived and relieved her of her apparent incompetence. The boys would line
her street, and she'd watch from her living room window as the headlights
blared through the heavy night sky and stopped at her driveway.

Those boys, the jocks to the screw-ups, were for her, and the attention they
bestowed upon the bubbly blonde left her feeling like she was floating. For
a short period of time, when the guys told her she was an angel, Ruby agreed
and imagined wings on her back.

However, the Saturday night of Bobby's birthday differed slightly. While she
still peered out the window and fixed her swimming pool blue eyes on the
oncoming traffic, the cars weren't about to stop. The dates could have been
arranged; in fact her "boyfriend" called requesting her presence at a local
party that was "guaranteed" to be "overflowing with alcohol." Another young
man, this time from the debate team, also gave her house a ring. Both had
called on Friday as well, but the answer remained the same: "no."

Ren was with her boyfriend, consummating a male/female relationship that
Ren's mother approved of. That meant that Bobby and Ren were together in a
bed, and performing a sexual act that Ruby helped prepare her best friend
for. When she left Your Toast with Monique on Thursday, Ruby was fresh from
her "study date" with the brunette, and she felt that the void that she
tried to fill with boys finally found a reliable clog in Ren Stevens. It
was a revelation that spawned several degrees of happiness for a couple
hours, but after it wore off, she realized it was discovered a few days too
late.

As she watched the cars zoom past the house, many of which pulsating music
at a volume so high that it shook various paintings on the walls, Ruby took
comfort that her mother was attending the weekly meeting of her Bridge club.
Therefore, she was allowed to listen to the only voice that reprimand her
that she couldn't escape: her own.

Ruby certainly wasn't looking the part of an angel that evening. She was
wearing a robe that had some self-centered saying on the back (referring to
her diva status), but also had the peanut butter cereal that she dined on for
supper stuck to the stringy fabric. Underneath the robe was an old shirt with
a few holes that featured an out-of-style yellow, and the words "LA Gear"
printed across the chest. It was a surprise to find the elderly shirt still
in her closet, but it was an even bigger shock to find that it still fit. To
finish her wardrobe off, a pair of sweat pants where old stains came to live
out their reaming years, loosely hung from her midsection. Some spots were
green; some were brown; all were easy to see.

But Ruby considered herself a shade of blue.

Ruby couldn't call Ren, because either she'd interrupt the "gift giving," or
Mrs. Stevens would answer the phone and not allow her to speak at all. And so
her Saturday night transpired as she gave her attention to the activity of a
street corner and stared until it blurred, and her eyesight seemed to be
smeared with vegetable shortening.

When the doorbell did ring, and snapped the meditation session, Ruby was in
too much of a haze to quiz herself about who could possibly be on the other
side of the door. She slumped her bunny slippers to the tan carpet, and
yawned until her jaw stretched south and felt like it was detached and
regulated to swinging without constraint. "Probably just someone looking for
directions," Ruby mumbled under her breath, as she dragged her feet to the
front door.

When she found the culprit of the ringing doorbell, Ruby knew that with the
day she was having just a lost neighbor would have been too easy.

Norman Squirelli stood on her front step, wearing a button-up
marble-wood-colored shirt, and a pair of equally uncool slacks with a crease
down each pant leg. His hands were tucked behind him as if he had something
to hide or was trying to itch a difficult spot his back. His hair was parted
down the middle, and oozed grease, but, for once, his glasses were on
straight. 'Baby steps, Norman,' she thought.

"Norman, not now. I already called in and said I was experiencing woman
problems," Ruby reminded him, as she tried to shut the door but was blocked
by Mr. Squirelli's foot (which almost got caught between the velocity of the
push and the immobile doorway).

"Uh, please, Ruby, I know you called in sick. That's not why I'm here," he
said in a tone that was sincere, believable, and also completely alien.

"Look, Norman, not today. I don't want to hear about how you think I should
quit."

"No, no, it's not that," he said, pulling a videotape from behind his back.
"I want you to have this."

"What's this, Norman?" she asked, pulling the tape out of his hands and
turning it around in search for a label.

"Well, remember a couple days ago at Your Toast?" Mr. Squirelli said, kicking
a rock on the ground. "That's the surveillance video. I thought it'd be best
if you had it."

"Oh, well, thank you, I guess" Ruby said as she crossed her arms, and nodded,
though it was with reluctance. "So, what else do you have behind your back?"

"Well, Ruby," he said, pulling a single red rose from behind the wall of his
flabby frame. "This is to say I'm sorry."

Mr. Squirelli presented the flower to Ruby without eye contact, and inched a
few steps backwards when she carefully and slowly took the bloomed object
from his moist hand. She peered at it much in the same way as the videotape,
and investigated the gift's true intention, before accepting it and raising
it to her nose to sniff.

"Well, that's all Ruby, I'll be leaving," he said in a defeated tone composed
of monotone sounds, as he turned around and stepped toward the sidewalk of
shame.. "I guess, I'll be seeing you on Monday."

Ruby inhaled the rose's scent for a second time, and as she did so, the
petals brushed up in her nostril and made her smile for the first time in
forty-eight hours. She watched her boss drag away from her, waddling from
left to right as he walked. 'He's probably going to go home and just wait
for the next few hours of work where he finally gets to be the one in
charge,' Ruby thought as she dropped the videotape into her front pocket.
The rose played upon her lips, before Ruby finally spoke up.

"Norman!' she screamed, trying to make it loud enough to capture his
attention.

"Ye.. yes?" he asked, stopping, but not turning completely around.

"Would you like to come in?"

"Me?" questioned Mr. Squirelli, as he twisted his body to face her. "Are you
serious?"

"Are you coming in or not, Norman?"

"Yeah," he answered, building speed to the front door. "I'd love to."

Ruby stepped aside, holding the door open, as he walked in amazed at the
scenery. There wasn't much difference between the Mendel's house and that of
a typical family dwelling. Portraits of family members were draped on the
walls, with a great deal of them being childhood pictures of Ruby. A couch
was positioned in front of a television set, and the carpet matched each
room. It was all finely tuned and put together perfectly, but Mr. Squirelli
couldn't see most of it because of the cloud of darkness that hung throughout
every conceivable space.

"Sorry, that I haven't made myself up today," Ruby said, closing the door.

"Oh, no, Ruby, this is fine, you look, you look," Mr. Squirelli muttered,
as he watched her expand into the living room and flick the light switch,
"beautiful."

The contrast of the light flashing into Ruby's eyes shot a barrage of spots
in front of her. She tried to rectify her problem by blinking and raising her
hands in front of her as if she was zombie from a horror film, in order to
find her way to the living room couch.

"This, uh, this way," she said, slowly walking into the lighted room.

Her face was devoid of decoration. The last time he saw her, Ruby's makeup
was smeared, her lipstick pranced upon her cheeks as if it was drawn by a
child angry of always coloring inside the lines, and her hair was stuck up
in each direction. But on that Saturday evening, her makeup was nonexistent,
and the only features she had to show off were her own. There was no blush
to accentuate her cheek bones, and no eyeliner to bring out the color of her
eyes. She was a canvas that needed no addition painting to be stunning, and
with her hair in a farmer's daughter ponytail, Mr. Squirelli was in awe.

He followed her to the couch, where he imitated every move like a dog
playing with his owner. She placed the rose on the coffee table, and he
nodded and looked around the room, stating a predictable comment about
the attractiveness of the house. Ruby thanked him, and said that he should
really be saying it to her mother, because she was the one who bought it
years before she was even born.

"Thanks again, for bringing over the tape, that was really sweet of you,"
Ruby said.

"Well, I knew that you wouldn't want it to be duplicated all over town and
now you can just forget it if you'd like."

"The flower is a nice touch too."

"I've been meaning to give it to you for some time."

"Really? What stopped you?"

"Knowing that you'd just toss it away."

"That's not true, Norman, if you would have given me a rose I would have been
flattered."

"But not flattered enough to go out with me."

"Well, no, Norman."

"Is it because I look and dress like this?"

"It has more to do with the way you treat me and Ren... and also that you're
thirty-five."

"Yeah, that's usually looked down upon in the public's eye."

"Look, Norman," Ruby said, caressing her hand on his thigh. "You're so sweet
right now, why are you never like this?"

"Because I get nervous around you. I know you'd never go for someone like me,
so I guess that turns into resentment. I mean, have you ever liked someone,
really, really liked someone but had to see them with other people all the
time, and you know that you were never going to be one of those people?"

"I do, Norman," the girl with the Jersey accent said, while looking out the
window. "I'm well aware of how that feels."

"Gosh, here I am. In the house of Ruby Mendel, telling you my life story how
I live in an apartment by myself with little furniture, and no social life.
I haven't even been kissed in seventeen years and even then it was just my
cousin, who was a man, and incredibly drunk."

"You've never been kissed by a girl, Norman?" she asked, blushing and
watching the once-angry monster grow into a child before her very eyes.

"My mom. Does that count?"

She shook her head, and leaned forward. As Mr. Squirelli sat in silence, his
body trembling as she approached, he wondered what Ruby had in mind. She
puckered her lips, closed her eyes, and then tilted her face sideways so
their noses wouldn't hit. Mr. Squirelli did as much as he could be expected
to with his history, and sat still. Ruby pushed her lips up to his until the
sound of suction filled the room, before returning to her original sitting
position.

"Well, Norman, there's a first for everything."

"Geeze, wow, Ruby, thank you. I don't remember the last time someone did
something like that for me."

"Norman, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course, Ruby."

"Are you a virgin?"

There was a photo on the television set of a young Ruby holding a microphone.
After a thorough study through his nearsighted prescription eyewear, Mr.
Squirelli interpreted her age to be almost twelve in the pic. A banner in the
background read "Miss Sacramento Pageant." There was probably a segment of
the contest where they asked questions. He was positive that the questions
didn't remotely resemble the one that he was being posed with then.

"You are, aren't you?" she asked, holding in laughter with as much control as
she had in her entire hundred-pound body.

Mr. Squirelli nodded.

"Well, tell you what, I don't know if I could do you that much, but I think
I can give you a head start."

"A head start?"

"Close your eyes."

Mr. Squirelli did as he was told. He sat straight up, in a wooden fashion
that had him mistaken for a flagpole. Ruby ran her hand over her cheek before
she pushed him backwards so he'd lay against the couch. Her ass slithered off
the cushions and onto the floor where she crawled between Mr. Squirelli 's
legs, and spread his knees to opposite regions. She removed the locks of his
pants, and pulled them down. When she saw a bulge in his white underwear,
Ruby shook her head in disbelief.

It took a few tugs to pull down his underwear over the cock. For a man with a
short frame, short fuse, and short in the looks department, his penis made up
for each shortcoming. Even with it laying limp and surrounded by pubic hair,
it still rivaled any natural probing-device she'd ever seen. It begged the
question: could she even devour the muscle without choking?

Nonetheless, she had promised to give him a head start, which is what she did
as she sunk the head of his cock around her lips. While his eyes had been
obedient to the instructions delivered by Ms. Mendel, at this point they
launched open to the sight of his employee milking his penis, and causing it
to grow as if she was pumping it full of air.

"Ruby, I... I ... ahhhhhhhh," he moaned, as he rummaged through his hair.

She bent down, and sucked past the first inch. It floundered in her mouth,
bumping into molars and getting washed by her tongue. Her fingers tightened
around his cock, and she started to stroke it as she jerked her head forward.
Without giving it much thought, the cock grew and pressed out the edge of her
cheek, which was clearly visible to Norman watching from his own personal
balcony.

She next moved her hand under his sac, where she rubbed and tickled the
balls. His cock was dislodged from her mouth, so she licked her fingers and
brushed it on the bottom of the hairy flesh bag. When this prompted Mr.
Squirelli to moan and spasm, Ruby lifted his shaft and licked underneath. The
handle she contained on his enlarged member was released and his near-nine
inch penis bounced off her face and slapped down on various sections of her
porcelain skin. With Mr. Squirelli's cock below her nose and now occupying
the part of the flower she once inhaled, Ruby picked out another
indistinguishable aroma that was a delight to her senses: male cum.

"I will never, never yell at you or Ren again," he screamed, looking up at
the ceiling, and then moving his attention back down when he noticed he
wasn't watching his wet-dream come true.

Her lips suctioned around one of the balls, and it sauteed in the warm oven
of saliva. Mr. Squirelli's ever-growing penis was being used a barometer for
pleasure as it raised an inch higher than Ruby had assumed was possible. Now
at a size that could be confused for a stiff baby's arm, she questioned her
ability to send it down her throat again, but grew excited when she realized
that just trying would be a favorable experience.

"Yommmm better, and a waize," Ruby muffled under mouthful of flesh and dark
pubic hair.

"Oh, Ruby," he said gyrating on the couch, and pushing cushions aside at his
personal discretion. "You got it! Ren gets a raise too!"

Ruby pulled the round part of her boss out from under her tongue, slapped
her lips on her sleeve, and wiped. She reapplied her hand to his shaft and
elevated her five fingers up. For two seconds she blinked her eyes and when
they reopened, her hand had yet to reach the tip. His pelvis jerked in the
air, resembling a man cumming, but yet nothing was spurting out of the slit
hole. As Ruby found herself entranced with the unsoiled penis, she placed
her face in front of the bucking, and allowed it slap her cheeks. His
pre-cum graced her skin, and compensated for her lack of makeup.

"Looks like you're getting the raise tonight too," Ruby smirked, as the cock
hurdled around her nose

She was able to gain control of it momentarily, and steady the wild,
uncoordinated air humping. When the stroke came to an end, and there was a
period of inactivity, Mr. Squirelli slowed down long enough to straighten
his gaze below him. What he captured with his beady brown eyes was the blonde
swooping down like a vulture, and swallowing his cock from the top down.

The first feeling he received wasn't new. Her sultry mouth where liquids
drooped off of her teeth like water off icicles, was a sensation that had
presented itself moments before, and it was sensation he thought would be
pleasant rerun. However, his extraordinarily-sized penis was rushed through
the lobby of her mouth and deported down her throat. It made it as far as
halfway, before she pulled it out, turned her face, and coughed.

"Ruby," Mr. Squirelli pleaded. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."

She raised her finger as if to say "one moment," and before Mr. Squirelli
could let out another syllable, Ruby forced it down her throat a second time.
His focus was squarely on the girl in front of him, and even if something as
terrible as Ruby's mom coming home would have happened, he probably wouldn't
have looked away. The image of her pretty petite face consuming his penis,
inch by inch, until her nose met his stomach was too picture perfect. He
placed his hands on her cheeks, and cradled her face as her skin tone turned
to dark rose, and her eyes crossed as if to be amazed at her success.

Moments later, the cock was pried out of her throat, and as the color
returned to Ruby's face, she returned to stroking. Still coughing up the
little droplets that Mr. Squirelli had lodged in her throat, Ruby arranged
her face so she could lean on his thigh, as several pecks met the side of
his shaft.

"Ruby?" he asked, wiping her hair back, and his glasses once again veering
off to one side.

"Yes, Norman?"

"Can I do it on your face?"

"Cum?"

"Yes."

"Sure, Norman."

Her hands were tiny enough to fit both palms vertically on the shaft, and she
did so while maintaining an aim directed at her forehead. She looked up at
him, her blue eyes locked on his, and with the single sentence, "Cum on my
face, Norman," Mr. Squirelli jerked forward and made several splashes to her
smiling kisser.

The first shot was made above her body altogether and landed in her hair
where it languished in her natural sunny roots. A second attempt was just as
successful as a rope of ejaculation lassoed her left ear, with a subsequent
shot being stored inside of the hole. Ruby pulled the cock downwards and a
forth try made it on her nose, where it dangled off and drizzled into a thick
raindrop. With the dispenser running low, the next shot barley made it to her
face, but when it did, it hit her open eye, where a burning immediately
inflamed her socket. But just as it looked to have ended, and Ruby started to
sling the juice out of her baby-blues, she was treated to a sip right from
the fountain, as a comet of white porridge was delivered in her mouth.

Mr. Squirelli collapsed and mumbled something about additional breaks at
work.

Ruby placed her face on the couch, and crossed her arms.

She was exhausted.

But not too exhausted not to swallow.

* * *

Mr. Squirelli wasn't completely positive that he wanted to
leave Ruby's abode (as was apparent by his puffy bottom lip and
I've-been-in-the-pet-store-too-long-puppy-dog eyes), but a reminder
that the blowjob proprietor's mother was about to depart from her
Bridge Club and come home any moment convinced him otherwise. And
with his pants' zipper still at half mass, he skipped out of the
house in an otherwise happy mood that Ruby thought he was incapable
of having.

Ruby shut the door, and intentionally knocked her head against the wooden
gate. A portion of her hair was welded together thanks to an overeager shot
of ejaculation, and the discomfort of drying jizz made her salivate at the
thought of freshly running water from the sink. She hurried into her tiled,
yellow bathroom that was positioned in the hallway just around the corner
from the living room. As she dunked the wash rag into the warm water and
applied the soap to her face, the grin that she attained for Mr. Squirelli
soon dispensed along with the semen. The cum rode the spiral of the depleting
water, until the gray cork was pulled out, and sunk down the drain. When Ruby
Mendel looked back in the mirror, she saw the same frown that she saw hours
before.

She performed fellatio on her boss mainly for Mr. Squirelli. With his nerdy
disposition and awkward traditions of wearing K-Mart clothing and being a
total jerk, she knew it would be one of the few times for him to enjoy the
opposite sex. But Ms. Mendel had to admit to herself that after she saw his
that his package was a size too large for even her, the thought of sucking
him gave her a momentary break from the tedious self-pity she inflicted on
herself. When the musky pile was sinking down her throat, she toyed with the
idea of actually having sex with him, but he was far too close to climaxing,
and Ruby was positive that it would have ended up on her sweat pants anyhow.

It was true that her mother was due home at any moment; that part wasn't a
lie. So when the doorbell rang as she cleansed herself, Ruby expected her
mother to be on the other side, and complaining about an absent memory and
a lost set of house keys. The rag was thrown across the handle, and a can of
air freshener (entitled a "Nature's Forest") was sprayed to eliminate the
stank of the previous few minutes. A sound of the first few bars of
"Somewhere" muscled through the house a second time, prompting Ruby to yell,
"I'm coming," but in a totally different denotation than that of Mr.
Squirelli before.

She opened the door, and was about to greet the guest with a "hi mom,"
when she noticed the long, straight hazel hair. The only girl who could be
identified with a description of skyward legs, predictably boring clothing
of bland blouses and skirts, and an ass that could block out the sun had
rung the doorbell.

And a second guest, a stuffed primate, was lodged in that unforgettable
woman's grip.

Ruby jumped to her tippy-toes and hugged her best-friend. With the grace of
a trapeze artist, she put her faith in the unreliable slippers' traction,
and pulled until the tall girl slanted forward to accommodate the embrace.
With her face on Ren's shoulder, Ruby relaxed. Even though the sun finished
its shift for that Saturday, Ruby could sense a warmth posses her as if the
big star was still spitting shine onto her.

"I was worried you wouldn't want to see me after how you acted on Friday,"
Ren said, as she closed her arms around Ruby and gave her a tight squeeze
back "But I'm wrong, and I'm really happy to be wrong."

Their breasts touched; their arms fumbled down each other's backs. In fact,
thirty seconds into the squeezing, Ruby grew tired of holding herself up,
but didn't mention a peep. She held herself up for two more minutes, and she
wouldn't have had it any other way.

They backed apart, and Ruby invited Ren into her house (as she had done
countless times before, but never with this much need) as they both held back
emotions and the inception of tears that were already streaming down their
cheeks. The door was closed, and finally after days and days of listening to
what others wanted, Ruby and Ren finally had their privacy. No parents, no
boyfriends. Ren leaned in, bent down, and kissed Ruby's cheek. As she did so,
a salty tear washed up on Ren's tongue.

"Why are you crying?" Ren asked, as she held herself.

"I don't know, why are you crying?" Ruby retaliated.

"Something happened."

"You know, let's go to my room," Ruby suggested, grabbing Ren by the hand
and hisking her to a room filled with Christmas lights and painted walls so
bright that it blinded those who were unaccustomed to the surroundings.

Once inside, Ruby locked the door to secure an uninterrupted discussion. They
retired to the bed, where Ruby sat cross-legged, and watched as Ren sit
slowly on her sheets. Neither girl noticed it, but both were holding onto the
mattress to try and calm their shaking nerves.

"Ren, first off, I want to apologize for how I acted on Friday. I was totally
out of line. Your mother said something to me as I was leaving on Thursday,
and I couldn't bring myself to talk to you."

"My mom? What did my mom say to you?"

"Basically that I was corrupting her daughter, and that I shouldn't be around
you because it might ruin her reelection."

"She told me that too, actually, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Why doesn't she want us to be friends, Ren?"

"I don't know. Probably the same reason why Bobby said that you and I
shouldn't be together either."

"Oh, Ren, didn't it go well?"

"I was scared Ruby, and it hurt, I should have listened to you. It's like,
it's like he didn't care."

"Did you guys break up?"

"No, but I'm sure it'll happen soon. I just wish I could find that perfect
guy. That guy that will listen to me, and who will be there, and accept the
people who I love. Oh, gosh, poor Mr. Pookie," Ren said, brushing some dust
off of his face. "Even with what my mom and Bobby say, you know who I wish
I could find a guy like?"

"Who's that, Ren?"

"You."

"I wish you could find someone like me too Ren," Ruby said, knowing there was
nothing she could agree with more.

"What am I going to do now? Within the last few days I went from having a
fairly typical social life to not being allowed to have a single friend, not
having a mother who trusts me, and not having boyfriend who'll accept me."

"I don't know, Ren," Ruby said, as she slapped her thigh. "Remember all those
years ago on that camping trip we took for school?"

"Yeah," Ren sniffled, blushing and shaking her head. "The one where we bunked
together in the same sleeping bag?"

"Yeah, that one. Remember why we did it?"

"Because of your parents?"

"Yeah, because my parents were getting divorced, and you watched me the whole
bus ride up and I didn't say a word, acting like a complete stranger."

"Yeah, and you told me that you felt like you were losing everything, and
oddly enough, all your equipment fell out on the ride there, so I said that
I'd share everything I had so you wouldn't have to lose anything this time."

"Then the teachers came around and I said that I was going to use your
sleeping bag instead, and you held me in your arms and told me it was all
gonna be okay. All we wore was our sports bras, because I didn't have any
pajamas, and you said 'Now, neither do I.' Remember that?"

"Yeah, I remember. It's weird how the worst things bring out the best times."

"Well, no matter what happens tomorrow, we have right now, and we have my
bed. If it'd make you feel better, I'd like to hold you and, of course, Mr.
Pookie is always invited."

"I'd like that, Ruby."

Though nothing was vocally instructed, both girls peeled off the bed and
began to disrobe. Ren's traditional blouse and skirt were discarded with the
care of diffusing a bomb, and wrapped around a nearby chair. Ren pulled down
her socks, took off her shoes, and constructed a neat pile of her clothing by
a dresser. She could feel the carpet with each wiggle of her toes. Now clad
in just a cotton bra and panties, Ren rubbed her bare thigh. Though she was
close to it, naked was something that Ren Stevens didn't feel.

By the time Ren turned around, Ruby had stripped herself of her lazy-day
attire, and was flaunting as much naked flesh as the undergarments would
allow. But when Ruby raised her head, and the two stood on opposing sides
of the bed, they both stood straight, with their arms descended, and took
their respective views. A second or two passed, before Ruby stuttered a
"yee..e..eees," and in unison, both teenagers stripped to their birthday
suits

Ruby unfolded the sheets, got in first, laid on her back, and moved with
about as much motion as a corpse. Ren followed her friend in, and draped her
head (as well as Mr. Pookie's soft mug) on Ruby's chest. They sunk into the
blankets as if it was quicksand, and held each other as if they wanted to
disappear entirely. With everything finally at peace (at least within the
room at that moment), they fell asleep as the events of the day transformed
into a night of innocent dreams where there weren't people telling them what
they should do.

And even though it wasn't exactly what Ruby Mendel envisioned, for at least
a few hours, she could hold Ren Stevens, and know that the neither of them
wanted to be anywhere else.

The End

    

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