Pantoufle de verre. Pantoufle de vair. She didn’t say a word about Claude the Curator—now clearly a relic—but with a devious smile she did ask h...w I’d liked my ‘surprise.’Her face sank when I stumbled over my answer. I told her what I could—that I wished she’d talked to me first, that I didn’t think my oils were good enough for exhibition. And though she apologized again, I could tell she didn’t understand. I didn’t push the issue. Wherever her head may have been, I knew her heart, at least,. I told you to stop." she says coldly, but really it's more a dare than anything else.I kiss her, but she still plays the part. When the kiss breaks I look her in the eyes. "Fuck you." she says, trying to catch her breath, like she might mean it a couple of different ways. I put her left wrist together with her right one, into one hand and squeeze them almost enough to hurt. Reaching down with my free hand, I lift one of her legs up off of the ground and move my body down so that my cock can. More

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