My daughter, who couldn't bear to see me dragging my dead wife's memory around, agreed to have a drink with me in the evening. I thought it was wrong, but I couldn't help but play a prank on her, who had unwittingly fallen asleep and become strikingly similar to my wife in recent times, more feminine. My daughter woke up unknowingly and, feeling sorry for me, said, 'You've been holding back, haven't you? Just rubbing, okay?' and rubbed her thigh against mine!?
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