Because someone had left behind a shirt. The icon on the shirt danced and cavorted before me, and I could almost hear the jingle that was supposed to ...o with it. Fruity oaty bars my aching ass. I scowled down at it, then muttered under my breath. How was it that being in cryogenic storage had wiped out all knowledge of my name, my past, everything about me, but I could still remember a fucking jingle for snack food?“Lucas, you ever think that we gave corporations too much autonomy?”“No,” he. She has a pretty face, and big, saggy breasts, which tumble over her belly and this was a sight I was more than used to. In fact, like today, I had often stroked my cock through my shorts watching her in her bedroom, either getting up, or getting ready to go out, all the time hoping my wife will not come up and catch me. Well knowing what would happen next, and with my wife out, I pull over a chair and position it where I thought I could see, without being seen. Then I pull my shorts and pants. More

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