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He’ll cave, he’ll capitulate, he’ll completely submit himself to my rule. Most of their local convention group had been goaded into believing that Brian had issues, so dissuading each of them from the trip this year hadn’t taken much work. She’d taken special care to mention to everyone that Brian had pretty much lost interest in attending AnimeCon with their local group, even hinting that he was too embarrassed to cosplay anymore since he’d put on weight and was too pudgy to fit into his old costumes now. Hah, as if. He wastes an hour every morning jogging, and spent hours every weekend trying to work on his new costumes. How retarded is that? But regardless, everybody bought it. Everyone except Emily, that wretched little goblin, Chloe remembered, scowling. However, with word going around that their convention plans had fallen through this year—and more importantly Chloe deleting Emily’s insistent pestering asking him about it from Brian’s messages—the obnoxious little runt had finally seemed to concede and let the matter drop. Mike and Will, Brian’s awful, misogynistic ‘guy’ friends, were disappointed that the annual group outing wasn’t happening, but just as quickly made new plans for that weekend, out riding drakes , which from their posts on social media had something to do with dirtbiking through the woods and coming out scratched and bloody. Idiots. Of course, if Michael wasn’t going, then his girlfriend Tanya had no reason to call off work so that she could tag along. Mark actually was still going to AnimeCon, but Hardcore if previous years were any indication, his support or interference would be a non-issue. He wouldn’t leave the confines of the gaming room where the Mana: the Mastery game tournaments were being held, trapped by his own obsession with those stupid cards. Of the three Beccas, Becky had disappeared off with a new boyfriend, while Hipster Becca had gotten herself involved in babe an artsy summer film project. Only the weird one, Rebecca, had been too socially removed to not take the hints, but even then she was probably only attending Sunday because Emily needed a ride. Next year, it’ll only be [i]my friends coming with us to the convention. Monique and Tom. Britta, myself, and Brian. Maybe Amy?[/i] She pondered for a moment before mentally excluding Amy. No, not Amy. Can’t have too many white girls in our group, or we won’t look very diverse. This year, hall C appeared to be in the process of setting up for some kind of business expo, but there were only a handful of people in suits around, and none accosted her as she made her way to their nearest restroom. “Alright. Time to transform! ” Chloe exclaimed upon entering the empty restroom, unable to stop herself from striking a dramatic pose for a pre-costume selfie. There was, however, no following whimsical makeover montage of colored light and sparkles. Instead, she wrenched open the mouth of her drawstring bag and squeezed and pushed doggystyle that bulging bag inside-out until it vomited its contents out upon the faux-marble of the sink’s vanity. Unrolling her costume and separating her wig pieces from a cute anime handbag and her makeup case, she began to change. Her comfy flats came off, followed by her halter top, and with a practiced flick of her thumbs her brief denim cutoffs dropped down her lovely legs to the tile. Practicing a demure smile in the mirror for a moment, Chloe proudly amateur admired the graceful lines of her body. Rather than underwear, she wore her camisole-style gymnastics leotard from dance class, which perfectly accentuated her lithe figure. Besides, it was in a nude-colored beige that would be unnoticeable under her costume. She then stepped into a pair of buruma pantsu , which turned out to be a rather plain pair of Japanese sport panties, and pulled them up to a snug fit with a satisfying snap of elastic. After that, she pulled her sailor fuku on over her head. It was a stylized version of the naval-style Japanese school uniform; the blouse had a traditional blue sailor collar that tied into a bow, and for the sake of simplicity, the accompanying pleated blue skirt was directly affixed to Big Boobs the bottom hem with a line of stitches. Her costume shoes were blue ballet slippers with ribbons that wrapped about her ankles and then laced up into decorative bows. Leaning in close to her reflection, she began sectioning off her dark hair into ring curls; twirling lengths of hair around her finger, then quickly rolling them up and pinning them close to her scalp with bobby-pins. 8 hours go by its about 10:36 when I get a knock at my door, and I know its my sister Hardcore cause my parents are already asleep. She had stopped laughing, but she was still smirking at my predicament. He also noticed that her pussy glistened with moisture as her cunt was leaking amateur juice. I decided to walk back to the table. He took his time, slowly sliding his hands along from her ankles to her calves, enjoying the toned, soft curve of her muscles. The waves swept Big Boobs through me. They drowned my mind with passion. I know that it was wrong, but I so wanted to have sex with my mom and... Nefertiti had stopped once before, foolish enough to assume his pursuers had long lost his scent, and it was this very mistake that left the life of his beloved Akhen forfeit; he would not make this mistake again, for even though the core of his heart screamed in agony for his lost love, even though it truly babe did not wish to go on, it was for Akhen that he would continue to survive. As doggystyle we went in I could hear men talking and I got quite nervous. “Well then, what if we take advantage of your weakness for ours?”