Я вспоминал ее выпущенные наружу сиськи, страпон в ее жопе и пальцы, ласкающие кли�...ор… Наверное, я думал плохо, но мне хотелось представлять, что под халатом на ней нет белья.Мы начали завтракать. Мне не то, что бы есть, лишний раз вдохнуть было в тягость.- Вит, - тихо начала мама.- Что?- Ну… я хотела бы поговорить насчет… ну… вчерашнего, - тихо произнесла мама и опустила взгляд, принявшись ковыряться вилкой.Я не нашел, что сказать и тоже уткнулся взором перед собой, чувствуя, как краснеет мое. But they forget, or don't care that it was HIS bed! He got out of his coffin and got dressed. He shut the lid and looked at it with a sigh. Yup, someone had been here. Chocolate syrup spots, and sticky drops. He scraped at one and raised it to his mouth. Honey.Not much to narrow down the suspects. Neither Cat, Friday nor Ali was averse to sweet accoutrements. But then he spotted the feather stuck to one drop of honey. A soft and iridescent feather. A Muse's feather. Friday's feather.As he. More

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