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I frequently fantasize about being Peter van Pels hiding with her.
Oh god, just imagine deflowering that sweet girl on a lazy Amsterdam afternoon, lying and learn what each other's bodies were for.
Now imagine nine months later, she's got a massive bulging stomach from carrying your child inside of her and it seems like she’s gonna pop any moment now. Her popped belly button makes it look like she's got a giant third boob where her stomach once was. She waddles around and can barely move half of the time. She's developed an insatiable craving for your ♥♥♥♥ and you've likewise developed a taste for her ♥♥♥♥♥. You’re both cooped up in an attic all day have nothing better to do besides ♥♥♥♥ like an unsustainable third world population. You lie