Mrs. Consent to become my wife, and do not compel me to have recourse to violence to effect my purpose, and I will spare your son. 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. “I got your note just in time,” he remarked.
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