![]() ![]() ![]() Her hair is twisted up in a high knot, while delicate, curling strands brush against her damp neck. She holds a champagne glass filled with bubbly, orange liquid. ![]() And like a dog who hasn’t seen his master all day, my lonely c*ck lifts its head at the sight of her. ![]() You have no idea what’s going on right now, do you? Well, hang on you’ll figure it out shortly.īecause the bathroom door opens, and Kate steps into the bedroom. A lust-filled, haven’t-seen-her-in-twenty-four-hours-and-I-can’t-wait-to-get-inside-her kind of surprise. She’s behind the closed bathroom door, probably taking a bath. I shift in the chair, trying to get comfortable, but the seat was obviously made to be “looked at” not “sat in.” I give up on the magazine and wait. It looks like it was designed by a deranged Mistress Mary, quite contrary-obsessed grandmother. I don’t care how “flawless” looking the makeup claims to be if you don’t already look like a Victoria’s Secret model, no cover-up in the world is gonna make you look like one.Īnother thing I don’t get-everyone always raves about The Plaza, but the room is wall to wall florals-the bedding, the upholstery, the framed pictures. I SIT IN A HIGH-BACKED CHAIR in the corner of the bedroom in a suite at The Plaza hotel, flipping through the advertisement-packed pages of Bride Magazine. ![]()
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