Whenever ecstasy— any kind of ecstasy—filled her heart to bursting, these physical expressions eased the pressure. Lucy changed into her Goodwill jeans and sweatshirt, plastering her hair down with an elastic band and securing it under a tight hood. “I suppose you could at least tune it for us if you know how to play. She took the initiative and guided his fingers inside her and bore down. Papillon would have broken him down; anything tender would have sapped his will; and like as not he would have left the stool and rushed into the night. ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain. You can do it, if you will. There is something sensual in the thought of lotus flowers. No good at all.
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