She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. . ” “But Italy—” “Italy’s for a good girl,” he said, and laid his hand for a moment on her shoulder. Spurling in alarm. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt.
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