a wounded nucleon
She saw his pink tongue flickering on Clare's exposed nympha as she queened him, her love juices shining on his chin and throat[…]
Gedlyngis, I am a fulle grete wat.
‘That was a symple cause,’ seyde Sir Trystram, ‘for to sle a good knyght for seyynge well by his maystir.’
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DiQt
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