’ She fingered the ring she had joining the two flaps of her vulva. ‘Who decides what people wear?’ wondered Sharon as she detached her earrings...and nose-stud, and placed them on the rickety bedside table. She glanced around the room, having recovered sufficiently after her scrubbing to comprehend things. Not only was it very small, but it was very bare. The only decoration was a faded portrait of the king. Primrose followed Sharon’s gaze. ‘Him, of course. The King. And he changes his mind all. Some had already left and the ones who were still there were power drinkers or lost souls looking for a hookup. His gaze returned to Alexa who was smiling at him while her hand drove him crazy. Unable and unwilling to make her stop, he stared at her. "What do you want from me, Mrs. Grey?" Alexa tutted as one would a misbehaving child and Bob felt the blood, what little he had left over, rush to his cheeks. "Why, Mr. Anderson," she proclaimed innocently, "I do not understand what you are. More

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