“Betty,” I said softly, placing my hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you go to the hospital with Harold? I’ll keep an eye on Amelia.” I gav... her a gentle push towards the ambulance and, almost zombie-like, she headed over.I found Amelia sitting in their living room, a grand old room decorated in lemon yellow, large, formal furniture, and elegantly decorated with Degas and Monet paintings. Amelia, dressed for bed in her pale lime cotton pajamas, looked lost.I sat next to her and draped my arm. In his younger days, Dick hadindeed been a classic nerd. But into his twenties, he'd developed ataller stature that bordered on intimidating; and he had started to getjust enough muscle to be taken seriously, in addition to his unusualheight. But that mattered little, sprawled in the mud as he was;Yvette's whoppers sandwiching his face in a valley of achingly softcleavage as dark as her lusty heart.But he was lost when those hot, lower lips slithered around the rigidlength of his man-meat; he. More

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