She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats. She cried out in pain, then in pleasure as he thrust himself into her. She could feel his penis pressing against her, half-erect under the starched black tuxedo pants. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. "No," replied Jonathan, moodily.
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