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They came into Selina’s room. Her dressing gown was barely belted, hanging open down a curving ribbon of flesh, a pathway begging to be walked, the stem to the flower of her face that grew between her large breasts, seemingly just the length and width of a cock for anyone who had one big enough to lay it there. Then continuing down her belly, barely interrupted by the loose belt, even less obstructed by the thong panties that on her olive skin seemed more like a passing shadow than any modesty.