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. " "Rather behind me;" and he spoke no more that morning. Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player.
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