"And you are as sensuous as a nymph, as warm and inviting as the earth is to the rain in the spring," he says, running a hand over her chest, tenderly, his hand quivering just a bit
His fingertips stray along the curve of her breasts and he quivers as he does so. "Yes... If I were a poet, I would write an lyric about your beauty and your kindness," he says.
"You helped me to be kind: I have been a selfish young man, at least until I came to this place and met you," he says. "Perhaps I acted so because I knew no better, because I would not have had anything to call my own in my world if I did not grasp at it."
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"Oh?" she asks, grinning still.
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