He picked up the remote and sat himself to her right. She knew very well that a new thing was stirring in her. Keep his arms down. But what he could do or might do she could not imagine. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria.
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