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They didn't finish dinner until after ten that evening. Guy's excitement only doubled driving to his home. Betty followed in her car close behind. He was thrilled with his choice. Betty was perfect only he was unsure about taking the next step. He didn't have to worry. Betty knew how to proceed, perhaps from her sexual escapades with the brother-in-law. "Can you fix me a vodka martini?" she asked once they settled in Guy's apartment. "Sounds great. I'll have one too," he said nervously. "How do you like it?" she asked. "On the rocks, and you?" "I didn't mean the martini." "Well, what did you mean?" "What are we here for, Guy, a home improvement inspection?" "Okay, you mean how do I like sex?" he asked rhetorically. "You got it my gallant lord and master." "My wife wasn't into it much, so there wasn't much experimenting. It's one reason we divorced." "How about if I become you sex slave?" "I don't know. I don't know much about that." "Oh good. Then I can show you. I brought along some. She knew they were laughing and giggling about it now, but that they would not be smiling at the pearly gates.She went to the mother superior's office on a Saturday morning to obtain guidance on the strange feeling between her legs when she hugged the pillows to hold them upright for the new linen. She explained it made her feel flushed and of an intent to hug tighter than necessary.The mother superior explained to the inexperienced girl that she was just feeling the needs of the flesh that are often mentioned in the bible. She told her that it was quite normal and that if she made a nightly effort to relieve her "internal pressures" she would sleep better and be able to do her work better the next day. When little Sister Sue asked,"How do I relieve my internal pressures, dear mother?"The much older and much wiser woman went over to the mahogany cabinet which was a gift from the parents of a girl recently arrived at the convent and took out a small leather pouch. She opened it up and.
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”“I’m not sure.”“Where do you think.”“Los Angeles or Baltimore.”“Jeanne,” he muttered. “I’ll have to let her know.”“What do you mean? She knows what happened.”“I never told her.”“They were best friends, her and Emily and Kyle.” I almost said Julio.“Exactly.”“Guilt.”“Exactly.”“Do you blame her?”“No. Of course not. But she would blame herself.”“For what?”“For introducing Jason to Emily. And for encouraging my trust in Kyle.”“Not realizing...” I started, letting Whiteman finish.“How murderously jealous he could be.”“So you could blame her.”“No. If it didn’t happen at my home, it would have been somewhere else, maybe with Emily’s lover as a second victim.”“Someone not as strong as Jason.”“Exactly.”“So Jason stopped Kyle from killing him.”“Yes.”“But Kyle managed to escape his grasp.”“From what I know of him, he’s a slippery bastard.”“Yes he is,” I said. “What are you going to tell Jeanne to do?”“To keep her distance, obviously.”“Move her?”“No. No need. She’s in a secure building. I’ll let.

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