Sprawled on the ransacked bed, she's painted red-gold by the setting sun. We've been fucking since check-in with all the lust and abandon we shared in college. Even lunch on the bacony ended in a fruit salad orgasm. I touch her cheek. "So what's this about, Clara? Why the sudden need? Why now?" "Getting married," she whispers, eyes closed. "Oh..." "This'll be our last time, sweet Puss,
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