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“I don't want to fight anymore,” he said solemnly. “If you really don't want this, then we don't have to.” He'd already won the quarrel; he just didn't know it yet. Regardless, we’d fought so hard, I couldn't make it look like I was giving in easily. “We already have a home security system and if you purchase one more handgun, we’ll have to register our address as a national arsenal.” He grinned before his face broke into a serious expression. “A dog would give us another layer of security and you wouldn't have to run by yourself, I really worry about that too.” He was actually making some very good points. “I know, but Marilyn's only been gone for three months and... I still feel a significant amount of loss.” Marilyn was our fifteen-year-old blonde Chihuahua who we lost to cancer. My previous statement was true, her death wrecked me for a while. I loved her so much, the heartbreak was almost unbearable. He looked at me sympathetically. “We can talk about this later, I know you still need more time to grieve.” I thought for a moment. "I worry too. I worry about you out there on the streets every day and I need you focused on your job, and not worrying about me when I'm home alone. So… I'm going to give you what you want.” I didn't want to appear too over eager, but I had to admit, getting another dog would be a welcome addition to our home. His eyes lit up. “Really, you'll do this?” “Yes,” I said warily, “but I get to choose the dog, and the breed.” “Okay, I can live with that, but it has to be a real dog, not another Chihuahua, Shih-Tzu, or Lhasa Apso." I ran my hand seductively across his chest. “Oh, those aren't real dogs?” I said teasingly. He broke into a indian little smile. “No they're not, it's about masturbation time we had a manly dog in this house.” I leaned in and gave him a deep, passionate kiss. “It will be a manly dog, I promise.” We made love that morning with a vigor that I hadn't experienced in months. I knew part of our sexual exuberance was due to the fact that it was make-up sex after our intense fight. Post-fight fucking was something we both enjoyed in an almost perverse way. But for me, there was the added thrill of what was to come; the result of the mature plan I would be putting into motion in the following months. It was Saturday morning and I’d just returned from my workout at the gym. Vince had already left to play golf with his friends and I was sitting at the kitchen table sipping on a cup of coffee. It had been two days since our fight and again, my mind drifted back to my senior year of high school. Truth be told, I’d thought of a little else muslim in the past forty-eight hours. _ That and I muslim made sure my nipples were showing really good too. When they arrived, they had Carl stand in front of the garden and explain what he had done and why. Please no. It was only a matter of time masturbation before the method of her break-down appeared. There is nothing wrong to have every woman you meet at your feet, but if you are involved in their death, you die a little as well. I insert two fingers into her. “Not indian a chance.” Pikon “I am looking for the Yellow Sign”. “My mother found a letter from Tommy.” Staring into space, the girl fell silent. "We are absolutely mature fine," Diane says to me.