Lucy dug out an old light gray cotton miniskirt that had shrunk on Shari in the wash. He initiated sex with her, lightly fingering her clitoris as an invitation. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up. The fire still burned brightly. It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. . But that title he would not endure. "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. Daughters were in the air that day. Pain sliced into Gerald’s hand and his sword arm jerked.
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