Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. I would like to talk to you about this—soon. “You are of the genus obstinate,” he said. Later, she understood his reasons; and it had now become habit. He thrust into her slowly at first, astonished at the natural amount of resistance and unexpected friction which nearly drove him to come instantaneously. She pulled his shirt from its tucked belted state and snaked her hands around his waist.
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