In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. ‘Étes-vous Francais?’ Her eyes, he noted, followed from himself to Hilary and back again, but she did not speak. Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. She fondled his penis which was stiff and straining against his pants.
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