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Lesbian Massage – and I Had No Idea

Category: Lesbian Sex
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She had joined a new health club. It was near where she worked three days a week in the publishing firm her family had owned for three generations. That meant she could go there during her lunch break if she wished, but today she had gone there after work had finished. It was after nine and there were few people around for it closed at eleven.

Catherine, who prefers to be called Cat, is in her mid-forties. She’s married with two children and her husband is a highly successful corporate lawyer. They are wealthy and they can both have pretty much whatever they want. Despite all that she is desperately unhappy and very lonely. With the children both away at university and Richard travelling nearly half of each month Cat is alone an awful amount. Inevitably that has affected their marriage and particularly their sex life, which at the best nowadays is intermittent.

She was trying to take off a few pounds and tone up her legs for the upcoming tennis season. Losing herself in the music she pushed her body to the limit going for what used to be called ‘the burn’ when Jane Fonda started the craze for celebrity work out videos. Her legs ached and her lungs felt like exploding as she completed thirty five minutes fast running.

Cat’s work out obsession wasn’t just to maintain her trim body. It was also like a penance, a sort of confessional. She worked out so hard she forgot about her sex bereft life-style. She pushed from her mind the lurid thoughts she continually had about other men. She banished the idea that was rarely far from her thinking of having another affair. She’d had one several years ago and had vowed never again. But now she was not sure about that vow. She was not convinced that she would be able longer term resist satisfying the dam of frustration, not sure she would be able to stop herself finding at the best a fuckbuddy and at worse a lover.

The joy of making her muscles scream had a purging effect on her and made her feel a different woman; almost normal she often smiled afterwards.

Completing her hour long ‘burn’ she changed and went to the pool. Her fifty lengths in the solitude of the water gave her time to think more. But as usual her thoughts were not logical; they were not as they should be. Pushing herself to the limit made her think about her body, made her think about what her body wants and needs. Yes the extremes of the burn made her feel horny.

After the swim, steam and sauna Cat was, as usual on the massage table. She again tried to push the wanton thoughts out of her mind. She tried thinking of work, but then her mind focused on the new, young marketing director. She thought of the upcoming tennis season but her mind was flooded with visions of the young tennis players in their late teens. Near to the end of her swim her thoughts had focused on a young personal trainer who was still on duty as a life guard watching her go up and down the pool. Her mind had gone into overdrive about him and she had imagined trying it on with him and wondered what would happen. Young men featured far more often nowadays in her thinking and when she masturbated, which was becoming more and more frequent, most days in fact. Fortunately, maybe, he left as she was showering.

Usually she could relax when having a massage. Normally the soothing, probing fingers of the muscular masseuse eased the tension away. But tonight for some inexplicable reason that wasn’t the case. The life guard kept coming into her mind and the sensuous experience of the hands on her back began to fan the already inflamed passions in her mind and body. It was as if her entire being had become sensitised to the stimulus of sex. Cat had been slow to realise what was happening to her as the masseuse finished her back and asked her to turn over. She had thought it was all in her mind. It wasn’t and it was almost with surprise that she became aware that her nipples had hardened under the small towel that the big boned, but not unattractive Polish masseuse used to cover her customers’ modesty. There was another small towel draped across her lower body covering her pubes. Cat felt the delicious sense of fullness in her breasts and the tingling, titillating sensations of arousal. Slowly other signs and signals of desire, little awakenings deep within her, percolated through to her consciousness.

The probing hands were on her stomach now. The masseuse had rolled the lower towel down so her pubes were covered as she kneaded the softness of Cat’s waist and the flat hard muscle covering her tummy. Sometimes the girl’s touch was light, almost caressing the skin and at others it was firm pushing in towards her abdominal wall. This made the delectable stirring move lower towards the heart of a woman’s sexuality, her cunt. Cat felt the desire begin to flow from deep inside her and was sensing the build-up of moisture as her growing passion began to take a liquid form.

Her eyes were tightly closed, but she couldn’t help thinking about the girl who was, at least indirectly, the source, the conduit really, of these delicious feelings. Twenty five year old Hetti was of mid height, muscular and, in the way most female policewoman and ambulance personnel no matter how pretty are, slightly butch. She had powerful thighs from long hours on the body toning machines and strong arms from pumping weights. She too was obsessed with her body, but in a very different way to her attractive and favourite client, Missus Catherine Moore. Hetti’s obsession was about tone and form and shape and size of her muscles. She had an aquiline face and dark hair cut short in a bob, with the only condescension to femininity being the long lock that fell down her forehead. Although having few features that would mean she would be remembered by others, she was quite attractive, especially when she smiled, which made her eyes gleam.

Cat felt a surge of dampness inside her. Hey wait a minute, what was going on here? Women had never been her thing. Why was she feeling like this? Thank God her feelings were carefully concealed and there was no way the masseuse would know of them. It was her own little secret. Or so she thought.

Unbeknown to Cat, the masseuse liked women. She liked them very much, very much indeed. Possibly lesbian and certainly bi she had been with many. She loved the touch of them, the feel of their skin, the flows and curves and the shapes of their bodies. She adored their soft smoothness and their feminine smell. And she knew their secret ways. Years of experience had taught her how to play a woman’s body like a fine and delicate instrument. Endless practice and execution had shown her how to feel its silent language of contraction and relaxation, smell its musky messages and see its subtle movements. The tensing of the muscles, the screwing of the eyes, the gripping of the fingers, the intake of breath, the flaring of the nostrils and the almost imperceptible, but to her noticeable writhing and gyrating of the pelvis.

She knew at once that she had flicked some switch in the delicious Missus Moore. That she had struck some receptive chord in the slightly aloof customer whom she had lusted after since they had first met. But she knew that she could do nothing, make no move or initiate any suggestion of intimacy. That was too dangerous; the customer had to give the signals, exactly as Cat was right now. Now she could capitalise on the discovery, use the signs and signals. She piled on the pressure, making the message more overtly sexual as the tell tale symptoms of arousal came back to her from the delicious prostrate form for the very first time.

Hetti had seen Cat in the gym and pool and she had massaged her on the table. She had seen her in her tight gym clothes, her skimpy swim suit and with rather surreptitious looks as she turned over on the table, she had seen her naked. She had seen her by herself, with a male personal trainer, with a few other women and of course with her alone on the massage table. Not once had she seen any sign whatsoever of Cat’s sexual interest or desire and certainly nothing at all of her sexual predilections being anything other than dead straight. Until now that is and momentarily she wondered why? She was under no illusions about her looks and body. She realised it would not have been her that was causing whatever it was that was going on inside her client. It was some extraneous force she knew that, but didn’t care why should she?

This was one of the bonuses of the job. From time to time she got to indulge her desire for her own sex, occasionally even being slipped a ten, twenty or fifty pound note after. But she had to be careful; she couldn’t afford to make a mistake. If she did and she made a move and was rejected she would not only lose her job, instantly, but also her license to practice. With some, a few really, there was no problem at all, they expected it and hence, the tips. The publisher that Cat had told her was her job had ‘novice’ written all over her. There was no room for misunderstanding. It was all deliciously dangerous. The best way and just how she liked it.

She reached for more oil. Next to near, between and maybe even on, the breasts. The full breasts of the lawyer’s wife. She slowly eased the small towel away from Cat’s breasts and laid it on the massage table alongside the gorgeously shaped body. God she was so lovely, Hetti thought her ambitions restored her lust starting to grow. She had seen Cat’s breasts before of course, for modern massage included working on them to help them stay pert and not sag, something that was so important to aging women. The massage manual, though, did not condone the amount and type of massage that Hetti often gave to unsuspecting clients like Cat. Each time she had seen Cat’s boob, their size, shape, fullness and beauty simply amazed her.

Feeling the towel being removed from her breasts and knowing the girl was looking at them always got to Cat. It was a seminal moment in each massage for her mind was now anticipating the hands on her breasts massaging them. She took a deep breath for momentarily it was the young life guard who was about to touch her boobs and not the older masseuse.

Hetti swallowed deeply as flames of passion began to flicker when her hands roamed just below and just above then down the sides of each of Cat’s full breasts. Slowly she moved each hand onto the mounds. Her heart pounding from both the slight risk she was taking and from the glorious feel of the soft, pliant flesh, her hands roamed over the magnificent conical tits and brushed against the pouting, rock hard nipples. Her eyes played quickly over Cat’s glistening body, her nostrils scenting the familiar perfume of feminine need. Hetti knew that Cat needed relief. Every sinew in her body told her that, told her that this was a screwed up woman who needed satisfying, told her in fact that she wanted to be fucked. But would she be prepared break through the shackles of convention, would she move outside the sexual comfort zone she’d occupied for so long, yes would she give in and let the masseuse service her as she so badly wanted to be serviced. That the Polish girl knew was far from certain, although tantalisingly possible.

To Cat the fever pitch of excitement to which she was being raised was solely the result of her own mental processes; that fucking life guard she thought. She didn’t know that inadvertently she had given the game away and was being manipulated as a result. As her body buzzed and vibrated with sexual desire, she remained in blissful ignorance of the masseuse’s intentions and was only aware of her own needs and illicit longings for gratification. Dancing in her mind’s eye were the muscular quads of the girl whose hands had the freedom of her body. It seemed extraordinary that she had never noticed them before or taken in the sturdy beauty of the strong arms and sculptured thighs, the product of so much sweat and ecstasy. Cat could hardly believe that she was thinking how wonderful it would be to reach out and touch them, to slide her hands up the skirt of the white button up tunic she wore, to fiddle the buttons open and investigate the girl’s breasts. Secure in the supposed secrecy of her own thoughts she allowed her mind to wander along the unknown path of female with female lovemaking. As her body vibrated to the wondrous touch of the masseuse so Cat suddenly thought how wonderful it would be to feel the girl’s breasts against her own.

If only the sublime fingers would reach between her legs, plunge into her and rid her cunt of that irritant of burgeoning arousal. But why stop at fingers her lewdly creative mind was thinking as the vision of the life guard was replaced with one of Hetti. A tongue was what she needed, even demanded. A woman’s tongue to enter her, to lick her and suck her. Yes that was what she wanted, what she needed to straighten her soaring mind and bring her back to earth. What the hell am I thinking? I don’t do women; I never have so why am I thinking this now?

In the pool it had been the life guard who she had thought would bring the sexual relief that her robust work out had created. On the massage table, now naked apart from the small towel draped across her lower stomach, she knew the answer. This was the safest. No commitments. No relationships. No ties. And the beauty of it was that she was alone in her own secure and private world of sexual release. No one else, not even the girl who was building her towards orgasm knew what was going on for it was happening inside and not outside the older woman.

Ok Cat thought as the sensations built up, it could be argued that it was depraved to entertain such wild fantasies and to use another unsuspecting human being in this way, but where was the harm? If it enabled Cat regain her sexual equilibrium and not take a male lover, particularly a young life guard with all the inherent risk to her marriage, then the end would certainly justify the means.

Hetti got the message. Monitoring everything that was going on both through her fingers and with her eyes she realised the older woman would admit nothing, wouldn’t participate in overt lovemaking and certainly would not pay for being fucked. She wanted anonymous sex with everything ambiguous and with ultimate deniability. On the downside for Hetti this meant little involvement from Cat, but the upside was that this extraordinary woman clearly intended to cum and just as clearly wanted her to make her do that.

Her momentary disappointment was replaced at the anticipation of the game that was to be played. The game where she was to give this adorable creature an orgasm, but neither would be able to admit to it, both on the table and afterwards. Hetti knew that to do this she would have to sail close to the wind and, skirt the borders of acceptable stimulation. She would have to take risks and do things she rarely did, but she knew it would be worth it. To have this beautiful mid-forties rich, married woman writhing in orgasmic delight on her table from her hands was a challenge she would do anything to achieve. Deep down, though, Hetti wondered what inhibitions might be cast aside, what prejudices may be abandoned in the headlong pursuit of the ultimate female pleasure, a full blown orgasm.

And so with all these thoughts whirring in her mind, the masseuse leaned low over Catherine Moore’s body as she smoothed her oiled fingers over the alluring, slightly heaving breasts, again brushing against the very clearly fully erect nipples that looked as though they were about to burst. She sent her fingers up into Cat’s warm, wet armpits, loving it, luxuriating in it and feeling her prey’s breath on her cheek as her breathing quickened. Hetti had to continually fight the desire to bend her face even further forward and take the full nipples between her teeth and suck them hard and long. With her face just inches from the near perfect symmetry of Cat’s breasts she had to summon up levels of self-control she didn’t know she had to stop herself. Beneath her hand the masseuse could feel the fluttering, pounding heart and the heaving lungs as Cat’s whole body reacted to the stimulation. Get the timing right she had to tell herself. Not too fast, not too slow. She decided to take a chance, the situation warranted the risk. With both hands she gently cupped the full, ripe, eager breasts and pushed them together into one mound of delicious tit flesh. Other than a flicker of Cat’s tightly clenched eyes and a slight, but sharp intake of breath there was no reaction and certainly no objection. Hetti squeezed the delicious mass of flesh more firmly. Again a movement of the head, but no objection, thankfully. Then, with infinite reverence she moved her hands up towards the tempting, tense nipples. Deftly she took each one between her thumbs and forefingers and squeezed firmly and enquiringly yet insistently. She had gone so much further than both normal massage conventions stipulate, and then she had been with Cat before. But her actions had been contained, just and her customer had done nothing to say she didn’t want what Hetti was offering. But she was pushing the boundaries of conventionality to the extreme. Only a pretty way out massage would involve that sort of action — but if both participants ignored it there could be no clear cause for later complaint. After pinching Cat’s delightful nipples quite hard, Hetti instantly relinquished the red hot, bullet hard tips and her hands travelled swiftly southwards.

Cat’s confused, churning mind had received the pleasure of her full D cup breasts being pushed together. She had accepted it, enjoyed it and recognised it as being an unusual, but welcoming gesture. He mind had also reacted to the twin messages of sharp, but delicious pain with both surprise and gratification. Neither of these gestures had ever happened to her before either with this masseuse or any other she’d had all over the world, but nevertheless she felt no need to object.

But that, for the first time made her consider that it might be a two way street. Had she given herself away? Had the masseuse worked out that she was turned on, that her mind was seething with erotic thoughts and that orgasm was her objective. The cupping and pushing together of her breasts and the pinching of her erect nipples said yes, the immediate relinquishing of them said the opposite. Where was the truth, what was the reality? If yes, then it looked like she was on the verge of being made love to by a girl. Missus Catherine Moore wife of a leading corporate lawyer fucked by a woman on a massage table, she envisaged as an unlikely headline in her local newspaper. Her intellect screamed defiance at the thought while her emotions howled for satisfaction. Her mind said stop her body groaned yes. What should she do? What indeed could she do? As the irresistible force crashed into the immovable object the two neutralised themselves. Cat took the line of least resistance and did nothing. In more than one sense of the words she was in another hands. How will it turn out she mused adding as an afterthought ‘Que sera sera?’

For an almost unbearable moment or two the pleasure giving hands left her quivering body. Momentarily Cat panicked and she wondered if the masseuse had realised something and may have gone to report it to her manager. Cat longed for their return, but was dreading the moment when she might be forced to choose between prudence and gratification.

But then the hands were back dripping with warm, sweet-smelling oil tracing lazy patterns on Cat’s beautifully sculpted and slightly parted thighs. The relief at being released from the unbearable state of sexual limbo roared through her body adding to her arousal and sexual expectation. The girl’s hands and fingers amplified the change, alternating between digging firmly into the muscles on Cat’s legs and caressing confidently her inner thighs. The combination of hard and soft, deep and shallow was like being fucked, Cat’s sexually ravished mind lewdly thought.

It was only then that she realised the small towel that was covering her lower stomach and hiding her pubes and pussy from the girl’s gaze was being slowly removed from. Hetti had decided to go for it. She knew Cat wouldn’t object for she knew now that Cat wanted to show her body to her as much as she wanted to see it. But still she was careful when she slowly pulled the towel away and she was waiting for Cat to say no or to grab the towel. Her heart pounded when neither of those happened and suddenly she was gazing at her client’s glistening landing strip of pubic hair and the obviously wet, pink lips poking out from the trimmed base of that strip. She desperately wanted to plunge her face down, lick the vivid pink lips and shove her tongue right up Cat’s cunt. But it was too soon for that.

Cat felt her nudity. She acknowledged the view that she was providing to Hetti for she knew she was wet. She knew all that and she loved it. At times and in appropriate circumstances we can all be exhibitionists; Cat had found her time and circumstances. She slightly, almost imperceptibly but noticed by Hetti, parted her thighs.

The strong strokes returned, rushing upwards towards the very edge of her vagina tempting and coquettishly threatening before slithering away down towards her knees. Seemingly endlessly repeated, their piston like actions grew in both strength and confidence until Cat’s entire body rocked rhythmically with the force of the movement. On and on in perpetual motion the hands milked at Cat’s quivering and now wider open thighs. Cat pushed back at them, her desire building with every thrust, but still she didn’t open her eyes or give any overt indication that she wanted to be fucked.

Then as if by accident the girl allowed the forward momentum of her hands to overstray the acceptable mark. Her fingers slid into the shining pubic hairs right to the very edge of the glistening pink lips which nestled so invitingly in the abundant wetness.

Eyes still tightly closed Cat couldn’t stop her head twisting from side to side. She also could not stop her mouth opening and her tongue running round her dry lips or her fingers gripping tightly the clean cotton fitted sheet on the massage table. She felt her orgasm begin to build. Don’t stop, please whatever you do or think don’t stop she was silently begging the young Polish masseuse. With all her might Cat concentrated on the screaming centre of her world, her tits and cunt. They were all that seemed to matter, all that seemed to exist. If only the girl’s strong hands would invade her body and drag the growing climax out of her. She fought back the desire to make the first move, touch herself, rub her clit, stroke her tits, or better still grab the girl’s sublime fingers and force them deep inside her. She even thought of reaching out and feasting her hands on the treasures that were up the masseuse’s skirt or inside her buttoned up white coat. But with almost superhuman restraint she stopped herself although she wondered just how long she would be able to resist the temptation.

Hetti sensed the change in sexual gear. Not long now she thought. She leaned in even further and lower toward Cat’s body. Fingers straight she engineered the overshoot until for the briefest of moments her fingertips rested on the wet, open lips of Cat’s pussy. As intended this put her client right over the top. It indicated to her that she knew the game and she was playing it with her. As she withdrew the teasing finger she saw Cat’s bottom lift an inch or two from the surface of the table, she took in the whiteness of the clenched knuckles, the screwed up eyelids, the half opened mouth and the darting tongue. At the same time she felt the tightening of the muscles under her hand and she saw the tenseness consume Cat’s body as now seemingly unashamedly the beautiful ash blonde arched her back. Most wonderfully she witnessed the cascade of wetness from the woman’s secret inner recesses as her orgasm exploded.

Not for one second did the masseuse hesitate. She had earned this and was now beyond danger. With her right hand she reached up between Cat’s open legs and slipped two fingers deep into the wet recess. For a long thirty seconds she held them rigid well up Cat’s cunt as the near demented customer rode her orgasm on them.

Cat felt the alien fingers slide in just as the orgasm crashed about her. She was now beyond caring, beyond concern, beyond doubt, beyond shame and well beyond believing she was totally straight. She crushed her thighs around the hand trying to capture the fingers and urge every single last ounce of pleasure from them. It was too late for analysis, for debate, for wondering and for inhibitions. She might be a respectable middle class housewife, an owner of a publishing firm and the wife of an eminent corporate lawyer. She might also be a pillar of suburban society, a devoted wife and mother and a sexually prudent individual, but now she was being fucked by another woman on a massage table and she was enjoying every moment of it.

Hetti saw Cat’s capitulation to what her body was demanding. She watched as the woman’s resistance drained away and she accepted the lesbian advance. Hetti knew from fucking other les virgins that it took time for the other’s minds to accept what their body was demanding. But she knew that in the end, especially when they had gone this far, they always did. And Missus Catherine, my friends call me Cat, Moore was no exception. No, this slightly distant, possibly a little stuck up; maybe somewhat prudish older woman was just like the rest. When the sexual temperature is turned up they end up writhing in orgasmic delight on the masseuse’s fingers that are shoved deep in their cunt.

As much as Hetti got big kicks from initiating women into what she believed their bodies were intended for, sex with their own gender, she also wanted something for herself. Keeping her fingers in Cat and now pumping them with the motion of a cock fucking her she leaned forward. There was absolutely no way that she could or would let this gorgeous older woman off her table without her full rewards. And the first of those was just inches from her mouth.

“Oh my God. Oh, oh no, oh ooooooooohh” Cat could stop herself from crying when she felt the girls tongue lick round her areola and then up and on to her nipple. It felt amazing. And then it just got better as the girl’s teeth gently bit and then pulled the nipple.

Cat’s orgasm found new heights and greater intensity as she was simultaneously finger fucked and nipple sucked. Could there be anything more exciting and sexually pleasurable she was wondering as involuntarily her arm went round the girl’s neck and she pulled her face more firmly onto her tits.

Hetti smiled. She had won. She had got what she wanted, but she wouldn’t gloat. She would give what this woman wanted, what she had probably needed for years and she would take her rewards in the way she preferred.

She knew that nothing would be said. That Cat would be in denial and wouldn’t discuss it, thank her or ask anything. She also knew that soon, a week or two she would be back for more.

Fiddling the buttons undone on her white, mid-length tunic, the breasts she had uncovered from the bra when she had stopped massaging Cat and got more oil, seemed to leap out. Leaning forward, she gently touched Cat’s nipple with her darker, but smaller bud. Obviously Cat had no idea what was touching her at first, but when Hetti took hold of her wrist and pulled the other hand onto her other breast the enormity of it hit home to Cat. Being fucked was one thing she thought, but somehow that seemed less intimate and personal than caressing the girl’s breasts. But she didn’t seem able to stop herself. She squeezed the familiar feeling from her masturbation activities flesh and her heart pounded when she acknowledged she was now passing another boundary. She had roared rapidly past the one of accepting a lesbian advance and was now confronting the one concerned with returning it. The confrontation became even more of a challenge when she felt the breast moving upwards until the girl’s intensely hard nipple was nuzzling at her lips. At the same time Hetti was now using her thumb right on Cat’s clit as she continued to finger fuck her. The blonde had given up all attempts at hiding her excitement and her legs were wide open and her knees were drawn up in a pose that if photographed would at best be called a beaver shot and at worst, dependent on your viewpoint, lewd and wanton. But Cat was beyond caring, beyond shame, beyond being reserved and certainly beyond resisting what the masseuse was offering.

Greedily almost she sucked the girl’s nipple as she felt her own being pinched and pulled more firmly, but pleasurably than they had before.

Still Hetti wanted more. Why not? She had shown Cat ‘the way,’ she had initiated her, given her other sexual options and provided her with one of the strongest orgasms the older women had ever experienced. That was worth a lot. Taking Cat’s other hand in one of hers and with the other flipping the few remaining buttons undone on her tunic she pushed her customer’s hand between her opened legs. When Cat felt her fingers on the damp, cotton gusset of Hetti’s, pretty white lacy panties, she was at first, surprised and shocked. But surprisingly to her the feel of the girl’s lips through the wet material felt so natural, right, proper and exciting. She did what comes so easily to any woman and gently rubbed her fingers along the cotton covered slit and lips. It was so simple to do. So natural and Cat realised so exciting. Her finger found the masseuse’s clit just as she felt Hetti’s hand on hers. She didn’t know what was happening at first, but then realised that the masseuse was pulling her panties down. Cat didn’t panic. She didn’t lose her cool or do anything sudden. The wetness on her fingertips was so reminiscent of what she felt most night and without really thinking she went on to do exactly what she did most nights. And that was shove two fingers up a cunt and fuck it.


Over the next few days Cat obviously thought about her ‘seduction.’ She thought about it a lot and when she did she felt aroused and not as in the past she would have thought she would, ashamed, bemused or guilty. Cat had come to terms with her lesbian adventure. She acknowledged that it had happened with her agreement and she accepted that she had enjoyed it. She realised that she had found such arousal from what Hetti did to her and she knew even now, that she would return. The worry, concern or call it what you will that mainly consumed her thinking was, what now? Did it mean that she would welcome a lesbian advance in real life as opposed to in the confines of a massage room? That she didn’t know. But as she lay in her bed alone at nights over the next few weeks she worked out that maybe a ‘fling’ with another woman would be preferable to an affair with a man.

She returned to the massage room with Hetti a few more times. Each time was similar. A straight massage that led to an intimate one and ended with them having sex. Hardly any conversation, no admittance on her part and nothing after they finished other than Cat passing over two fifty pound notes.

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ปั้มไลค์ wrote

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