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Show 36, Jeffries, Islamorada "But when the honeymoon is over-" Dorian admonished softly, trying to quiet her. "No beautiful man," she said thoughtfully, "When I'm married I'll want to do it every night." "But Diamond he won't," interrupted the other gentleman, loudly. "My wire-haired beauty," Dorian acknowledged kindly- And she was in his lap. Showing a trim ankle under a new floor length skirt for the winter party season. He shifted his legs, adjusting himself. "Diamonds are forever." She ran a lacquered nail tenderly along his face. "I'm talking about fidelity-and I'm Fido." Why had he had that brandy? The dancers were stamping around their den in a frenetic sort of bunny hop. Pestilence and fire, Dory thought, and the medieval dancing madness. . . "Maybe we've had enough to drink." "Oh Dorian, am I repeating myself? It is simply that I want you to comprehend, if you've never experienced a girl like me. . . "I follow you. Virgins are unaccomodating. . ." "Oh! Well that's nice. Not you. You're not gonna give me the old line about how will we know we're good if we don't try-" "I imagine I'm good." |
