She could feel his penis pressing against her, half-erect under the starched black tuxedo pants. ‘What are the chances, do you think, of that thing being already cocked?’ ‘Probably not even loaded,’ suggested Hilary hopefully. Shari squealed, clutching her towel around her. All this muddle to placate his conscience! "Here—quick!" McClintock thrust a cigar into Spurlock's hand. “Lord!” she said. . . Beyond that everything was nebulous. He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. She was delivered home by 11:30pm.
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