He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. 87 “They’re amazing. “Sure, but it’s not like you’re married, you know.
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