"See, count," she said, with a smile so sad in its expression that one could almost detect the tears on her eyelids--"see, our French grapes are not t... be compared, I know, with yours of Sicily and Cyprus, but you will make allowance for our northern sun." The count bowed, but stepped back. "Do you refuse?" said Mercedes, in a tremulous voice. "Pray excuse me, madame," replied Monte Cristo, "but I never eat Muscatel grapes."Mercedes let them fall, and sighed. A magnificent peach was hanging. Rhonda and Victor went to the master bedroom and Ann went to her room. She was still trembling from the energy Rhonda had put into pleasing her. Although still tender it did stop her from cumming again before falling asleep. She woke up Sunday morning. It was 10am. She groaned as she rolled over. She could hear Victor and Rhonda in the living room. She glanced at the bedside clock and noticed another clutch of $100 notes. Her “salary” for a job well done. Ann sat in the lounge as Victor. More

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