The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. “Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. " "Agreed. Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil. A pretty piece. "Your tone suggests something marvellous in the fact," replied Ah Cum, ironically. ‘Tee-ree-sa. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley.
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This video was uploaded to ineel.net on 01-06-2024 22:16:38
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