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No wonder they look like ghosts. Unhappy ones. Of course they’re pale. Where’s the sun, anyway? And it’s not even winter yet.She had hated London. Too many people. Too many horses and carriages. Smelly. Dirty. Noisy. Oxford, on the other hand, seemed to her to be just about the right size despite the mud and the cold and the food. Already home to almost two dozen or so colleges that made up the famous University of Oxford, its streets were full of students from all over the Empire.Gérard was happy at B— College. The string of tutors Father brought from England as she and Gérard grew up had earned their pay and she and her foster brother had soaked up everything they could teach. He was ready for Oxford, had been ready even before their hasty departure with Antoine years ago.Merle Heathcoate, Master Printer, read the sign board outside the shop where Father’s cousin had his establishment. His print shop occupied most of the ground floor. On the second floor were the kitchen and. She had already expressed a wish to do it again. We had dinner and I was intent on watching a bit of TV. When Cathy joined me, naked, I knew I couldn’t settle down in front of the TV. She sat on my lap. “Fuck me right now” she whispered in my ear. I carried her to the bedroom and after a particularly quick session of foreplay I did as she asked. She was so turned on that she woke me up twice during the night for further encounters. I found it hard to stay awake at work on Monday. It was her day off so I knew what she would be doing and it wouldn’t be house work. Sure enough, she was more interested in sex than cooking dinner. Not that I minded. I knew she wanted me to contact the other couple I had spoken to. Alf and Ruby admitted that they were newbies and that they were interested but very nervous. I did contact them again and said we were experienced. OK, I sort of lied. But I wanted to make them feel less concerned. I told Cathy that I had rung them and I had arranged for them to.
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