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Maybe the results would not be what Wilson wanted?It happened suddenly. One moment Beth was taking the last bite of her sandwich and the next she was swallowing it and sitting there with her mouth hanging open, a stunned expression on her pretty face and her eyes staring glassily at the man sitting across from her."Do you know where you are?" Wilson asked in a soft voice."N... No. Where am I?" the young woman asked hesitantly."Come over her my dear," the preacher said as he led Beth to the bed. "Just lie down and close your eyes and relax."Zombie-like the young woman lay down on the bed. Still talking in his soft, deep voice the preacher began to take off her clothes and the semi-conscious girl offered no resistance."Do you have a lover, Miss Safic?" Not now. Not for a long time." Have you had many lovers?" No... yes... several. Not a lot." Was there a favorite lover? One you liked better than the others?" Yes, Reverend. Mike. He was my favorite." Mike is going to make love to you. Her lips didn't linger, but pecked away from spot to spot. She turned more, now partly on her side and partly on her belly. Grabbing both sides of his face, she pulled it towards her and continued kissing him. They weren't passionate kisses, but urgent, loving ones. And then her mouth stopped on his lips and she held it there. Her hand caressed the side of his face while her lips squished against his. She shifted a little more so that her body partly covered his with her leg draped over his legs. Then she laid the side of her face on his chest.Bobby stroked his mother's hair, letting it flow through his fingers. His hand drifted lower to her back and caressed it through her nightgown. He heard her whimper and felt like he was the parent and she the child. All he wanted to do was comfort her and make her pain go away."I love you, Mom." I love you too."And then there was silence. Bobby continued to stroke her back and soon her breathing got deeper -- and then he heard the soft snore he.
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The next table was empty. I do not know why I did it but I swapped seats and sat looking at the table Tom Jones had booked. The place began to fill up and I watched couples and groups find tables and there was the young woman who had sat next to me on the plane. The waiter consulted his booking list and waved in my general direction. I was the only person at this end of the room. The young woman shook her head and walked off. Eventually of course, I had to move back to my assigned table, well sitting at a table for four on Valentines night was a bit odd. I sat with my back to the entrance and held my breath. I was sweating. She was late. Ok woman’s privilege, but surely not an hour late. I had just about given up when a young woman slid into the chair opposite. I do not know which of us was more surprised. It was the person who had been sat beside me on the plane. ‘Hi I think we already met! That is if you are Tom Jones. I told you I was coming to meet my boy friend almost every.

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