Clotilde pried Fritz from Lucy’s left leg where he was clinging. His mom was a famous model. “Come,” she said. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition. She felt his crotch through his jeans. "Well, what can you expect, guzzling poison like that? Are you returning with us to Hong-Kong in the morning?" "No. ‘That is settled then.
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