After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. Good night. I want to be myself. She gulped for air merely, for it had been difficult to breathe with his hand almost cutting off the supply to her lungs. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. He would give The Tigress a triple coat of paint, and take these two on a long cruise, wherever they wanted to go—Roundhead and Seraph, the blunderbus and the flaming angel.
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