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"It's N'Kumba, isn't it?" I said, trying not to look at the black woodenbreasts. "Matriarchal goddess of the Kashanga people, I think."I knew damn we...l it was N'Kumba. When I took Special Topics in AfricanHistory from Dr. Jordan, I did a paper that looked at three differentmyths about N'Kumba. She was kind of a Trickster figure. And somethingof cruel one, I thought.That had been the one grade from Dr. Jordan I didn't like. She gave me aC and said I misread the myths and viewed N'Kumba too. It was as if she had been hit by lightning. It was the reaction he had hoped for. Again he brushed across her ass with his tongue. Again, she shuddered, breathing heavy as her face was pressed against his balls. He knew that this would be an extraordinary moment. Slowly he began to circle her ass with his tongue, touching, teasing, and licking across it in broad strokes back and forth. The sensations were so intense she was forgetting to breath. Never before has she experienced anything like. He had progressed to the classes where all the boys were bare assed most of the time, and the subjects of the courses were concerned with only how to improve one's sexual ability. Every perversion was covered. Weeks were spent on subjects like "Ass Eating Technique," ?Piss Gargling,? ?Shit Eating? and "How to Properly Suck Dog Cock." By the time a boy had graduated to this level of classes, he no longer questioned any orders and just automatically did whatever he was told to do It took about a. My body clock had adjusted, which meant I didn’t simply fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillows, which allowed me the extra contemplation time.What I found most interesting was that I’d gone from basically sitting on my butt for ten hours a day, in one way or another, with two hours of exercise, to nearly eight hours of exercise and about two sitting on my butt, but in meditation. In addition, if I excluded the breakfast conversations with Sakurako, the pre-dinner conversations with.
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