..” Marie whistled, her eyes still glued to the grainy photo, “Penny,” she scolded, “you might’ve mentioned he looks like Nureyev.”The dan...er? Or the stallion? I shrugged, trying and failing to seem nonchalant.“I didn’t think his looks mattered,” I murmured, shaking my head, “What do you know about him, Sébastien?”“Not a lot,” he leaned back, “About as much as you, I imagine. Very rich. Kind of a recluse. Blue eyes. Black coffee. I don’t think he’s ever said much more to me than his morning. All attempts would be in vain.The pressure was getting worse; Bobby heard a ringing in his ears yet his pleasure was not diminishing. Bobby realized that he was weakening, he would pass out before too long but his desire to fight wasn’t really there. He didn’t really want to resist Sid, he wanted to keep getting fucked and give in to the sensations. In the back of his mind Bobby knew this didn’t feel like a game anymore, he felt like he could really die. Bobby thrashed harder yet Sid’s grip was. More

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