When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. " "How soon do you expect Mishter Vudd?" inquired the janizary, tauntingly. 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. “Much better.
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