Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. “Please don’t be sad. When I was younger, I was very sick with a deadly flu. It's only a gentleman come to offer you his hand. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being.
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