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By AnonymJohn Thorndike
Buena en la cama,” he had heard men say about women: how good they were in bed. It was a phrase that came with a knowing look but never any details. You were supposed to understand, but he didn’t. The peasant girl he told Clare about had done nothing but lie in silence beneath him. Good in bed meant wild, he thought. It meant that the woman had no inhibitions—and that was Clare. He loved this but it scared him.
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By AnonymJohn Thorndike
Now she felt good. She felt great. She loved her swelling body, loved how everyone gave way before her, paid her tribute, wanted to touch her arm or shoulder. In the mirror, her face glowed. Her days of nausea were forgotten. Pregnancy was easy, it was a breeze on a summer day.
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By AnonymJohn Thorndike
This mythic leader of the Revolution, she thought—how much like other men he was. How easily offended, how easily calmed.
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