She leaned a little towards him. He yielded his place and struck instead with his tongue. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him. But beyond "amicable agreement in which mutual concessions are made," the word "compromise" was as blank as the Canton wall at night. Listening attentively, he fancied he heard the breathing of some one near him, and moved cautiously in the opposite direction.
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