He watched her orgasm come to life and he could hold back no longer. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. “We can be alone?” She inquired. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. Melusine soon found herself seated at a table, with a dirty piece of paper in front of her, and a badly mended pen between her fingers.
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