The extent of a woman's virtue

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It was a pain to look at him. His thighs burnished gold, his back gleaming with sweat, the furrowed brow on his face an unwelcome invitation for me to smooth it over with a caress. And his lips! Oh how cruel! To have that comma of a pout turned on me. I could only do so much to resist.

Created: Mar 18, 2011

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