Jazzmin Flush (52)

   
   "Jazzmin Flush (52)"
   
   Donald implied, admitted more:  "Jazzmin--I'm Yankee born, yet Southern torn.  Your stepdame was a Southern Belle, more in love with chic things than a Southern General's adoration of peacockish pageantry.  And what a piece of ass."
   "Daddy!  You can't cuss in my holy basement."  Jazzmin's foot down, blowing gold out of her eyes.
   Donald puffed on a fake cigarette to pee her off.  "Darling daughter, you got dog people as your comrades and friends.  Who are you?"
   Jazzmin retorted, "I don't deliver pizzas for a living though.  Sorry."
   Donald like, "I love you girl.  You are my sweet angel of dirty-blonde gold."
   Rascal zipped her naked self up in a mechanic's jumpsuit.  Thomas kept arctic wolfways, resisting his red-hued desire to lift a passionate leg, urinating on any nearby furniture.