She acted as her mother had taught her to. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. ” “Oh, well!” he said, a little doubtfully, “it’s just a phase,” and bent down and rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment, with his heart beating and his nerves a-quiver. She moaned as his hands explored her body, fingers crushing against her panties under her skirt.
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