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... clung. Her mind drifted to the comfort of his lap, a seat she'd grown to crave in mere moments, and she moved to sit back down, longing for the familiar warmth of his embrace.

But before she could lower herself, Kafka's hands gripped her calves, his touch firm yet gentle, halting her.

"Hold on, Mom." He said, his voice low and laced with admiration. "Now that I can see your bare legs, let me look a bit longer. They're...stunning."

"...Long, sexy, real treasures you were h ...

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