That you ignore like a frugal monk. I hear the rubbing of your hands again, this time it sounds wetter and less metallic – oil being warmed, no mag...ets? There – you drip a few warm drops at the top of my bum crack – it creeps its way down so, so slowly, those few miserly drops. Down it slinks, around my little rosebud, down further, creeping along until it melts into my other natural pussy oils. Slowly a little burn starts spreading in the trail of the oil – this clearly wasn’t just a massage. Nor would Joe. You have to believe me."Did she hear right? Did Dorothy just say she loved her? The icicle of bitterness lodged in Caroline's heart has begun to thaw. Dorothy's eyes glisten with tears, The poor girl looks wretched, has become a lost soul. Caroline does not attempt to free herself from this grip of desperation."We can't talk here," Caroline says. "Joe's band have a gig tonight. Come round at seven-thirty. You can tell me whatever it is you need to say then." . More

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