Shanghai Silk

Chad, breathing easily and looking mighty fine for a man of thirty-seven, ended his run at his usual bench beside a tool house in the remote Myrtle Beach park tucked into a golf course almost within sight of the ocean enough for most not to realize it was a separate public park. As usual, he ran in just athletic shorts and running shoes. His auburn red hair was boyishly tussled and reddish down swirled around his firm pecs and down the line of his sternum and six pack and under the waistband of 

shanghai silk

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