He suddenly looked young, and not sure at all. He didn't ask stupid questions or make me feel like a slut. But it was too late. I slid one hand to his balls and massaged them, while I stroked the thick velvet warmth of him.
We'd talked about it. Richard spoke for us. Anita, no, Nathaniel said, no. Not a fine tremble, but a full-blown quaking, as if from the wrist down I was having a fit.
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