supple cotton

The bus pulled into the station, a slightly larger replica of the others. Ben looked out the window. Standing on the platform, he saw Susan standing patiently in a soft white frock. He smiled quietly. It had been so long since he had seen her, and Ben tried to feel enthusiastic. Kathy leaned over him, pushing a firm breast softly against his cheek. Ben kissed the supple cotton.

Lord Malinov, Flowers of Malinov

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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