" "Her release would be a mercy," pursued the matron. In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man. Ever since the young police officer had arrived on her doorstep the clock had started ticking faster. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. "Is it by lettin' you go, my darlin', that I'm to airn it?" inquired Terence. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone.
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