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"Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. He took over, doing his best to rearrange his overly sensitive member back into his pants. She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. It is of no use. It took my breath away. He lit a cigarette and loitered about. And they admired Kent sedulously from the windows.
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