“When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn. She spoke with fluent enthusiasm. Michelle burst into laughter, followed by John, who almost spit up his cola. She studied her form in the full length mirror, assessed 69 her body as one would that of a prize calf, trying to see it through his eyes, through the eyes of desire. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside.
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