Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. Darrell stood erect in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience the moment which should deliver him into their power. ‘Not yet, madame. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him.
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