" You don't need to suffer," I whisper. "Let me help you."She takes another step away from me, worry in her eyes. "No, don't take everything away. It ...urts, yes, but it happened. I don't want to forget that you saved me, nor what you saved me from." I can’t help but admire her strength. Part of me suspects that whatever part I have already deleted was the worst, and she feels as though she can handle the rest."I won't take anything else away, unless you ask me to," I promise, and she hugs me. "Brother, let me go first. I have a survival knife. Remember who won our throwing contest?" I did!" Well, yeah, but only because you were fantastic with the kitchen cleaver! I was better with a straight throwing knife. You tended to throw high, remember? And I've been practicing too."Mark thought for a second. "Yeah, I remember... All right. Play it real careful. Climb back up like crazy at the first hint of trouble. Let Mayoni do the work of covering for you." Yeah." Leon gave Mayoni a brief. Claire lit a cigarette nervously. The alcohol had burned off some of the nervousness she’d felt earlier and replaced it with an exciting tingle coursing deliciously over the surface of her skin. ‘You know, I was just wondering the same thing myself,’ the slightly tipsy wife said with unusual bitterness. ‘Come on, Claire,’ Francine continued. ‘I’ve got two very rich, very good — looking friends. We’ll drink some Hassa — that’s an Arabian aphrodisiac, you know — and maybe have a little fun.. "Footman," she said, leaning over to brush her hanging breasts across his chest. Her ruby red lips hovered over his. "I seem to remember, Nigel, that your footman's balls deliver prodigious amounts of warm, slippery liquid. You aren't going to do that to me again, are you, Nigel? You aren't going to fill me to overflowing with your hot, common spunk ... am I correct?"She then sat still again, and her pussy again writhed, though this time her eyes were clear as they stared down into his. She.