Mike and Shari sat at the kitchen table eating potato chips. There was the motor accident, too. There never is much left for me. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up. She touched his erect penis and delicately curled her fingers around it, moving her hand back and forth slowly and gently.
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