It was eleven o'clock. “Odd little room,” said Ann Veronica, dimly apprehending that obtrusive sofa. She withdrew her mouth and patted his penis dry with the bottom of his shirttails. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. ” “I met you accidentally,” he reminded her.
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