Like in some kinda freak puppet ballet they all looked simultaneously to Bowser and waved at him before getting back inside. Bowser was about to lose it. He started to sweat and checked if his temperature was still okay. That seemed to be the case.There was no time to think it over ‘though. It seemed like a mob had formed in the street. The noisy mob became a silent parade and they walked up to Bowser’s house. Row after row of silent Donatellos passed his door and when they did they all looked sideward towards him, blowing him a kiss and then looking back in front of them. The last row of 4 stood still in front of his house and started to sing: “Who is that man, not like any other man? BOWSER!” Bowser had to know. Was his mind playing tricks? At his guard, he opened the door. But again the street was empty. His reluctance got replaced by anger. His anger by doubt. Had he seen Donatello for real? Why did he see Donatello everywhere, and lots of him? Had love and lust for Turtle Boy. I sat down on the large sofa as Jack disappeared into another room; Roxie followed behind me, sitting close beside me, running her hand up my thigh. The scent of her freshly washed hair and body washed over me, violet, jasmine and ylang ylang. “Cara...I did not know. I swear to you. He told me he was bringing someone up, but wasn't specific...if I had known I would have told you,” she sighed as she played with her champagne with her index finger. “Hmm...I don't believe you; you picked this outfit out knowing I was going somewhere formal with my father. Didn't you think it could be a possibility your husband might be bringing me up here?” I scowled at her. She looked over at me about to respond when I pounced on her, kissing her hard and fast, taking her breath away. The glass of champagne slipped from her hand clinking as it hit the floor as I pushed her onto her back, our lips still locked in a passionate and fiery embrace. Jack was standing in the doorway watching us quietly as.
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