Miss Mary being his only child ’an all, he were in a right pelter. The walls were pristine white and unmarked except for two sconces and a rather colorless Monet poster that had been framed in an expensive oak surround. He was very aware of her placing his penis between her legs. “Oh, Michelle, I’m such a miserable fool. ” His voice sounded muffled and heavy, as if he had gone to bed. He could not understand how men could live ignoring this one predominant interest, this wonderful research into personality and the possibilities of pleasing, these complex, fascinating expeditions that began in interest and mounted to the supremest, most passionate intimacy. Not a word passed between them.
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