He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 20-09-2024 18:37:34
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