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She brought him a shot.
As she neared him, he reached for her and his fingers pressed into the flesh of her breast, and through the fabric of her shift, she could feel his palm against her nipple. An ache grew from deep within her. Not like the aching in her head, but a delicious, torturous ache, one that made her yearn for more.
"Mr. Kotter," she asked breathlessly, "can I call you Mandingo?"
FAX
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