She could smell his body as he was pressing his left hand on her neck, the right forearm blocking the head. She thought for a moment that her own voic... was satisfying him, like a sort of fading resistance that was already bearing all the signs of a pathetic uselessness. Because I'm weak, thought Alice.– What you are...He wasn't wearing anything but a pair of old jeans. His complexion was slim and sinewy at the same time, and Alice was feeling scared by the sense of cold determination emanating. Michel absented himself to take a tray of food to his younger brother, and returned laughing to himself. ‘Is he well?’ Constance dared to ask. ‘He’s prayed himself hoarse for God’s forgiveness,’ Michel replied. ‘What ever did you do to him? He wept like a raped nun when I asked him how his first fuck had been.’ ‘Oh, dear. I … I do not know what to say.’ Michel tipped her chin up so that she had to look at him. ‘Are you blaming yourself? Tsk, tsk, cherie. You made a boy into a man last night.. More

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