"Whatever," the white wine-swilling woman guffawed, rolling her glossy eyes while unrepentantly mocking the dumpy, middle-aged man's parlour pickup silliness. Fucking little hobbit, she thought. Respect the goddamned boundaries. She felt his was a hard sell, reeking of overcompensating desperation. But one thing perplexed her. He could prove it? Good luck with that, she decided,
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