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For many years I have been riding my motorcycle through half of Europe without an accident and now this. I had seen the truck backing out of the driveway. But instead of stopping, I elegantly hooked my motorcycle. When reinserting to the right, I suddenly slipped the rear wheel on the wet cobblestones away and I fell on the road. It was immediately clear to me that something stupid must have happened. My right lower leg hurt suddenly and I got a numb feeling there. I don't know how long I lay with my leg under my motorcycle, it took a while until two young men came running and lifted it off me. A short look in the direction of the boot was enough for me, the leg was broken. All curses about this disdainful world helped nothing, of all places in Munich came after not even 250 km driving distance the abrupt end of my one-week tour in the direction of Tuscany. Until the eager guys of the Red Cross came with their ambulance, probably only a few minutes passed, but they were felt hours. The blood in my leg was throbbing like crazy, and the people worrying about me and already placing bets on a clean or compound fracture didn't really help to calm me down. At least they hadn't torn my head off with them when they took off my helmet. Despite my loud protest and attempt to take it off myself, some wise guy had tried to pull it off my head without releasing the buckle first. I had always been able to yell loudly, so he had quickly caught on and I was able to free myself from the helmet.
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Patricia's voluptuousness 1
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Original copyright © 2020, by Tricia Williams.
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Tricia Williams, P.O. Box 42, 97634 Mellrichstadt, Germany
Foreword
Dear readers
Thank you for purchasing my book.
My name is Tricia Williams. I was born in Atlanta, Georgia in 1982. I have been writing stories of all kinds since I was a child. The older I got, the more I was drawn to erotic literature.
Your Tricia
Sister Isabell
For many years I have been riding my motorcycle through half of Europe without an accident and now this. I had seen the truck backing out of the driveway. But instead of stopping, I elegantly hooked my motorcycle. When reinserting to the right, I suddenly slipped the rear wheel on the wet cobblestones away and I fell on the road. It was immediately clear to me that something stupid must have happened. My right lower leg hurt suddenly and I got a numb feeling there.
I don't know how long I lay with my leg under my motorcycle, it took a while until two young men came running and lifted it off me. A short look in the direction of the boot was enough for me, the leg was broken. All curses about this disdainful world helped nothing, of all places in Munich came after not even 250 km driving distance the abrupt end of my one-week tour in the direction of Tuscany.