She had hardly kept in touch with him after she had left his side, learning of his activities—or lack of them—from Aunt Martha. And now all she co...ld feel for him was the sadness of what had never existed between them—or for him. The Reverend Albin had lived to be eighty-eight. Ada, who had always been told her dominate characteristics came from her father’s side, could take comfort from his longevity. However, she told herself that, if she had the choice of living quietly to ninety or to live. He adjusted his position on the swing, moving his hips so that his hardening cock could unfold and rise upward in his pants. Another whiff of evening breeze stirred the random leaves into crisp applause only to fall silent once more, waiting to listen to the second act of the passion play that grew more vivid in his mind.Nothing compared to the lust he could stir up inside of her. But then, that was not entirely true. The lust she could stir in him ripped through his body like a flash fire. Her. More

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