The woman drew back from Amanda. “You’re such a good girl, sweetie,” she said, looking at Amanda’s fuck-drunk face, now sloppy with spit from ...heir makeout. “Stay good for your Daddy.” The woman stood up and straightened out her own clothes. “I’m so glad I met you two. I’m Anne, by the way.”“Randolph,” Amanda’s Daddy said. “And this is my Amanda.” He said it right as he plunged his fingers back into her. Amanda was past caring—she loved the violation.“You two are just lovely. And now I’m. She felt pleasantly tired, it had been a long but satisfactory day. She brushed her teeth and went to bed with a novel by Anita Desai – Fire on the Mountain, a present from a good friend of hers who was into India, and travelled to Goa a few times a year. It was a nice book, but Lizzie was too sleepy to keep on reading for a long time, and she switched off her reading light before ten. She was up at six the next morning. She’d promised to deliver her illustrations at the firm at eleven, and she. More

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