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"Come in." I call.When you enter the room you gasp, your eyes wander over my body. I shift in my chair, my blouse falling open more. You take a seat on the sofa opposite me. Our gazes are locked on one another. My eyes fall to your crotch and I smile, you are excited already. Mmm. I watch you as I bring my hands to my chest, my fingers pausing to pinch my already erect nipples through the fabric of my bra.Your breath quickens, your excitement becomes more evident. "Touch yourself for me," your command makes me tingle with excitement. I slide my hands up along my stockings, under my skirt. I spread my thighs and brush my fingertips over my panties. My free hand slips into my bra and pinches my nipple, causing me to gasp.I stand then, hiking my skirt all the way up. I slowly slip my panties down over my hips and let them fall to the floor. Stepping out of them I look at you, you're leaning forward, watching intently.I sit back down and lean back. My fingers move to my wet slit, sliding. " Beall watched Wainright's quill copy down the information in a tiny script. "How long will it take?" he asked."Oh, a month, six weeks perhaps. One never knows with the bureaucracy or the coastal winds. I will also send a request by dispatch rider through Annapolis, but that is somewhat uncertain as well. Depends on the state of the roads as you know. Anything else?" Wainright asked."No. Have you found out any more about the death of Sparks or the man who filched his purse?" Not a thing. Quiet as a grave, no humor intended." And no one is spending like a, what do they say, drunken sailor?" No luck there either, I'm afraid."Beall stood and tugged on his hat. "Must be going, wife's in town with me today, and she always has a number of stops to make." I was going to invite you to dine with me," said Wainright, "but now I insist. Please, you and your good wife join me at the City Tavern. It's really quite nice, quite proper, and a number of ladies of good repute dine there regularly..
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The marriages of freedmen were quite different, and what would her marriage to Ab be like?After all, when she had been establishing a school, she had previously taught in the school at Port Royal. She hadn’t ever been a wife, and Ab had never been a husband, and their observations had been of very different marriages. Ab’s enthusiastic report of what he and the general had bought brought that home to her. Ab had not only slept on the floor and washed in the branch while he bought a Sunday suit, He had not thought of a bed or a tub for her until Sam Warren – a man from the rough plains of Illinois by way of four years of military camps – suggested them.And then, too, it was one bed. Marjorie had never imagined sleeping in a separate bed from her husband. She had quite carefully not imagined what their sleeping arrangements would be. Marjorie was an educated, liberated woman. She knew that marriage involved sex. She also knew that the local whites’ opinion that Negro sex was bestial.

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