Oil of Roses - Cover

Oil of Roses

Copyright© 2005 by Jim Reader

Chapter 33

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 33 - Broken in spirit, Harry Grimes is saved by a young woman who turns out to need some saving herself. Together, they and their friends combine strengths and divide weaknesses, building a most unusual modern tribe and exploring the meaning of friendship, love, and sexuality in a "freak-friendly" community.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Fa/Fa   Ma/Ma   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Incest   Brother   Sister   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Light Bond   Spanking   Group Sex   Harem   Orgy   Polygamy/Polyamory   Interracial   Black Female   White Male   White Female   Oriental Female   Hispanic Female   Indian Female   Anal Sex   Analingus   Double Penetration   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Pegging   BBW   Slow  

Although no one in the limo really needed one, a round of drinks from the mini-bar helped shorten the drive back into the city and into the older part of downtown, which had grown into the entertainment district.

Slowly they made their way down a street clogged with cars and pedestrians who evidently felt the street was merely an extension of the sidewalk.

"Goddamn this is busy for this early in the night," Eddie exclaimed.

"Must be a convention in town or something, this many people out this early on a Monday night," Kelly said. "I mean, if classes at the university were in session, this'd be normal, but damn."

"Well, crowded or not, at least we're going to shop someplace other than the warehouse district," Harry said.

"I had thought about having Mr. Antiquity do our outfits in leather," Carol said, curled up across his and Margo's laps, "but this many outfits in a week ... he would've pulled it off, but he would've been very grumpy, and it would've been obscenely expensive. Carmine will charge us an arm and a leg, but not more than that."

"Mmmm," Kelly said, "love leather ... soft ... supple ... smells divine ... melds to your body like a second skin ... warms instantly on contact ... the insinuation of movement that's as close to a sound as good leather makes when you move in it..."

"Kelly ... honey ... if you spooge on the seats I think they'll charge y'all more for cleaning," Patricia said with a laugh.

Kelly shifted over and sat on Patricia's lap. "Alright 'Tricia, what happens if I spooge on you?"

"I send you the cleaning bill," Patricia said as she hugged Kelly, following it with a kiss on the cheek.

"And I give you a spanking your randy little ass won't enjoy," Karen growled.

Kelly looked around for someone to champion her cause.

"Minx," Eddie said, "you're just shit outta luck, ain't ya?"

"I'm surrounded by traitors and hateful, hateful people," Kelly said with a grin. She shifted back to her seat next to Margo. "I shall have to use our resident submissive to console myself. Carol, come here."

Carol shifted up and over and sat a-straddle Kelly, facing her. "Yes ma'am?"

"You're fine right where you are," Kelly said, opening Carol's blouse and freeing a breast from its confinement. She began to suck on it loudly, her hand sliding beneath Carol's skirt.

"There, there ma'am ... even though we're mean to you we all still love you," Carol said, stroking Kelly's hair.

"Okay, now that we've established that in all probability Princess would be willing to do all sorts of nasty tricks for a leather outfit," Margo said, "how much further is it to Carmine's?"

"Uh ... the driver knows ... I told him ... he'll ... ummm..." Carol said, losing herself in Kelly's attentions.

"Kelly! Stop that! We'll need her to make introductions and the like," Harry said.

Kelly reluctantly released their wife and Carol slid over to sit on Harry's lap while she tucked herself back in.

"We don't all need to go in right away ... good Lord, there's a horde of us ... a couple of us won't be missed..." Kelly grabbed Margo and, with no small amount of help from her new victim, guided her to sit a-straddle her lap as Carol had.

"I guess you'll just have to make do with me," Margo said as Kelly completely unbuttoned her top and unhooked her bra in a flash.

"Oh Big Mama, spending time with you is never 'making do'," Kelly said, drawing Margo close to her as the limo slowly made a turn into a fenced and gated parking lot. "Y'all go ahead, Margo and I will join you ... later."

As Harry, the last one out, closed the limo door he heard Margo ask "Do you think the driver will watch?" and Kelly reply "Only if he's straight ... and still breathing."


"Are you sure it's safe leaving them alone with the driver?" Patricia asked.

"Relax my love," Karen replied, "Eddie had a little talk with him while you were straightening your clothes and helping the other ladies do the same. That driver had no doubt about the painfully slow death that awaits him should he even just annoy the two of them. They'll be fine. Plus as you might not have noticed, Eddie's no longer with us."

Patricia looked around and saw that Tamara was arm-in-arm with Nicki and Harry.

"Where'd he go?"

"He's waiting in the shadows someplace, watching the limo, ready to escort them here when they're finished," Karen said. "Don't worry, they'll be fine."

As they walked through the crowds of club-goers Nicki asked, "Bro, is going shopping with the family always this interesting?"

"Actually, love, this has been a rather sedate trip out ... I'll give Madame Cornelius a call and see if she's up for tea Friday afternoon."

Carol squeezed his arm tightly. "Oh good ... we haven't seen her in far too long."

"Don't forget my dear, we'll see Li Kuan as well," Harry replied with a smile.

"That prospect doesn't scare me quite so badly anymore," Carol said. "I have faith that you won't let Li Kuan touch me and besides, if something went terribly awry, I wouldn't have to outrun Li Kuan, I'd just have to outrun Nicki ... I can do that."

"In your dreams, short and cute," Nicki fired back.

"Oh trust me, my fear of Li Kuan is sufficient motivation for me to outrun almost anything," Carol said. "She hits my primal fear button dead center; even when she's not being predatory she makes me uncomfortable as hell, but if she's being predatory I turn into a babbling basket case."

"I remember meeting her briefly," Nicki said, "not long after the accident. She didn't look all that frightening but when I heard Madame Cornelius' offer ... well, I thought she was joking, and such a joke was disturbing enough. Then I realized she wasn't joking at all ... and that went way beyond disturbing."

"Well, here we are," Harry said.

Carmine's was wedged between Diamond Dick's, a dance club where the trance was pumping so loudly the brick walls seemed to vibrate with the beat, and Long Tall Sally's, a more classic rock and roll kind of club where a band was covering AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long". The brick front was unadorned and windowless, the large solid wood double doors bore the words 'Carmine Landau — Tailor' and below that 'By Appointment Only'. Once inside the doors they found themselves in a small reception area with a pleasant-looking young woman at a desk and two doormen the size of Eddie standing between them and the door that led further in.

Carol went to the receptionist. "Andrea, we spoke on the phone. Grimes party, nine of us, appointment for 8:30 ... well, six at present, the other three will be along shortly."

"Certainly ... Emil, show our guests into Room Three. Would you like Mr. Landau to take your measurements personally or will one of his assistants be acceptable?"

"Oh no, Mr. Landau himself, most definitely. These outfits deserve the full Carmine Landau treatment," Carol answered.

"Of course," Andrea replied, making a note. "He should be with you shortly."

Carmine's was perhaps twenty-five feet wide, but in the style of the older buildings in that part of downtown was very deep, going back over two hundred feet to the alley.

As Emil showed them through the door and partway down the hallway to Room Three, Karen asked in a soft whisper, "What's the difference between him taking our measurements and an assistant doing it?"

"About two hundred dollars more per garment, but since I'm paying, don't worry about it," Carol answered in an equally low voice. "The real difference, all snideness aside, is the extra time Carmine will have with us and that will lead to more attention being paid to the whole process."

They entered Room Three at Emil's behest and continued to converse as they heard him head down the hall back to the reception area.

"Tony used to have Carmine make all his suits for him and he'd regularly spend half again what the suit would've cost just 'making nice' with Carmine," she said as she took a seat on one of the dark burgundy couches that lined the oak wainscoting that lined the walls, dark from thousands of oilings. "He'd book an appointment for the entire day, take Carmine to lunch, spend the afternoon talking about fabrics, colors, styles, then take him to supper, followed by more talking. Finally, around 9 in the evening, they'd get around to re-measuring Tony, making sure his measurements hadn't changed in any particular, although in the last years he shrunk a little. After that, they'd discuss the final plans for the suit. The extra time showed too ... Tony's suits were some of Carmine's finest work and worth every penny Tony paid for them."

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Yes?" Patricia replied as she examined the pictures of western fashion through the ages that decorated the umber wallpaper above the wainscoting.

A young man entered the room and bowed slightly. "My name is Sergei, may I get you something to drink?"

"What do ya have?" Karen asked.

Before Sergei could answer Carol put a hand on Karen's arm. "If you want it, chances are they either have it or will acquire it fast enough as to make no difference."

After they gave Sergei their drink orders, they took seats on the comfortable divans and loveseats that decorated the room.

"Nice place," Harry chuckled, admiring the floors that were of the same oak as the wainscoting, and bore the same signs of years of loving care. "I wonder what's keeping Margo and Kelly?"

Carol, curled up next to him, said, "You know very damn well what's keeping them, sir."

"True ... and when was it decided you were footing the bill for this little shopping trip?"

"Yeah," Karen said, stroking Patricia's hair. "I don't recall ever agreeing to that."

"I'll argue on Edward's behalf as well," Tamara added, "but I fully expect even he would lose this fight."

"Yeah," Nicki exclaimed, "what they said!"

"Look y'all," Carol replied, "think of it this way. If you had asked us to go to supper with you, and you chose the restaurant, and ordered the meal for us, giving us little to no input into the decisions, would you expect us to pay?"

"Uh ... no," Karen answered.

"I think she's got us," Tamara said.

"I walked into this knowing pretty much how expensive it's going to end up being, the outfits I want Carmine to make for us ... we're going into Dominique's together, we're going to look stunning and we're definitely going to make an impression. It's only fitting that I foot the bill." Carol preened under a caress from Harry. "Of course, if Carmine and I can't convince you that what I've envisioned, that he will doubtlessly refine and improve immensely, will look great on you, well, we'll drop back five and punt. Between all of us we'll figure out something that will work for you and get it done in time."

"Fair enough, I suppose," Karen sighed. "But just for that, we're picking up the bar tab at Dominique's Friday night."

"No arguments from me," Harry replied. "And if Eddie objects, you can whomp him," he finished with a grin.

"Yeah, if he say anything I'm'a whomp him," Karen said, in a halfway decent impression of Jimmy Claude.


The driver kept the engine running as even at night, it was far too hot, so Margo and Kelly were comfortably cool as they lay on the carpeted floor in each others arms.

"Now then Princess, we're all alone, or nearly so," Margo said. "whatever shall we do?"

"Well, first off, Big Mama," Kelly replied, gently clamping her hand on Margo's neck while she finished opening her wife's top with the other, "there ain't no Princess here right now. All I need to hear from that mouth of yours is whether you want this to go down easy..." she grasped one of Margo's breasts tightly in her hand "or hard."

Margo felt her own need for dominance strong inside her, but realized that it wasn't the time or place for a fight of that sort, no matter how fun it sounded like. Perhaps tomorrow evening, after she got home from work ... make a big ring with the floor cushions and such in the living room, put down the big padded comforters on the floor, to help cut down on excess bruising.

"Certainly, my Queen, I would prefer 'easy'. How may I serve you?"

"For the moment, my eager little bitch, like this," Kelly said, sliding down and putting her mouth to one of Margo's nipples. "Now hold me, caress me," she said as she began to gently and softly kiss Margo's breast.

"As you wish ... ummm ... my Queen," Margo purred.


Tatiana Turov slumped into a chair out on the patio of her home. Across the table from her sat Vashti, smoking a Marlboro with a look of disgust on his face.

"Pussy American cigarettes," he said, "my God, why would people pay to smoke air?"

"Maybe because these won't kill them as fast as smoking those tar sticks Russians seem to prefer," Tattie replied, tiredness evident in every word. She had just gotten Yuri settled in his room, Julie was still in there with him, humming to him. Neither of them knew if it helped him or not, but they both figured it couldn't hurt.

"This place ... your home-"

"Your home too, now," Tattie corrected the boy.

"Our home ... it is nice. You are still a fool for bringing Yuri here ... but I recognize the good intentions behind your efforts. I thank you on his behalf."

"Someday he will thank me on his own."

The boy tore the filter off another cigarette and lit it off the burning coal of his last one, then leaned forward and looked at her.

"Ms. Turov, you are too American. You and your people believe you can do anything, that anything is possible if you throw enough money at it. There is no Yuri left inside that shell to reach. I knew Yuri. I watched him fade away and die inside." The boy rubbed at his eyes in an ill-disguised attempt to hide his tears. "Don't you think I've looked into his eyes, talked to him, petted him, tried with all my might to reach something, anything, inside of him?

"If I walked into my bedroom and broke the keyboard of that beautiful computer you gave me over my knee ... could that be fixed, or would the computer as a whole be ruined?"

"It could be fixed, buy a new keyboard."

"Now then, if I went into my room with a sledgehammer and busted it all into a million pieces, could that be fixed?"

"No."

"No ... you'd throw it away. Yuri is in a million pieces and much more complex than a computer."

Tattie looked at him and felt the sadness and sense of futility that surrounded Vashti like a fog. "But computers aren't alive, Vashti ... they can't fix themselves. People can. Besides, all it will cost is my money and some time ... why are you so worried about the investment of some money and time? If I'm right, then Yuri gets better. If I'm wrong, nothing is lost but my money and my time."

"Ms. Turov ... when the new shipments of children would be brought in ... after a few months, all of us had gotten very good at judging who was going to make it and who wasn't. The new shipments would come in and we'd start betting ... not on whether or not one or the other would make it, would adapt to the new way of things, but how long it would take the ones who weren't going to adapt to die.

"It was that certain. We'd grown that used to spotting the signs. Protecting the weak ones wasn't an option ... there is a class of customer who prefers those weaklings. They were used and discarded and because they couldn't, or wouldn't, toughen up and fight to live, they died.

"Hope, friendship, love ... these are currencies, Ms. Turov. You spend them where there's a good chance of a return, because when you invest them in someone, you are investing a part of yourself ... a part you never get back. Investing a part of yourself in someone who is going to die when nothing you can do, nothing they will do, is going to change it ... it costs you more than money and time. Trying to save Yuri ... it will cost you more than you can imagine ... it will obsess you ... it will eat at you and break you from inside. And all Yuri will do in return is sit there and look at you from a million miles, and a million pieces, away."

"And you ... should I invest in you, Vashti? Or are you too broken to save?"

"Would I invest hope and love in me ... no, no I wouldn't. Are you familiar with the proverb 'Any fish is good if it is on the hook'?"

"I am," she said, smiling, "although Americans would take it a bit differently than a Russian would."

"I mean it in the Russian sense ... you are an opportunity I never saw coming. If I am to have a future, it will be because of you and your kindness.

"But ... I worry ... so many nights, the only reason I did not give in to my despair and kill myself was ... was ... they needed me. The only thing that kept from walking into the darkness was the knowledge that the others were better off with me there. And now ... now there is no one to need me ... and I..."

Despite the weariness that was soaked deeply into her very bones she was up and had drawn Vashti into her arms before he realized it. And by the time his silent tears, tears that had been flowing through much of their conversation, turned into hoarse, lung-racking sobs, she was back in her chair and he was on her lap, cradled in her arms.

"Vashti ... Vashti ... let it out. You are so much stronger than most of the people I know, certainly stronger than me. But even your strength must have a rest, from time to time. Don't worry, my boy ... you are needed."

As she held him, the smell of his cigarettes wafting up to her nose, she was once again reminded that in spite of the old soul that looked out at her through eyes that had seen far too much far too early in life, he was still just a boy ... and a badly damaged boy at that. She held him, caressed him, and whispered meaningless syllables of comfort into his ear as he brayed out his pain and his fear.

Julie came to the patio door, a look of concern on her face but Tattie waved her off and Julie left the two of them alone on the patio as the sun set. At last the boy's sobs wound down.

"Who ... who needs me now? Yuri doesn't need me ... he has you and Ms. Julie ... the other children ... Ms. Turov, I don't want to feel like this ... I thought getting away from those men, I would feel better..."

"Vashti ... my dear boy ... you've gone from a world where you knew your place, your purpose, and it was a very vital and important purpose, to a situation where you don't know either.

"I need you ... more than you're ready to believe right now. Do you remember last year, Vashti?"

"Yes," the boy answered, "although there is much of it I would like to forget ... I remember it."

"I don't. I remember having dinner at the White House, sometime in June, I think ... I remember a lot of fights with Peter, not specifics, just that we had them. I remember a few high profile customers and my meetings with them ... but that's it. I don't remember anything else about last year."

"Why?"

"Because all I did was hide from the world in my workshop and work. I'd go out with Peter on occasion but that was mostly to shut him up and any memories I'd have of those times would be unpleasant ... as it seems most of my memories of Peter are."

Vashti somewhat embarrassedly disentangled himself from her arms and stood up. He dragged his chair over closer to her, wiping his nose on his sleeve before ripping the filter off a cigarette and lighting it.

"Ms. Turov, you do not need me as a reason not to disappear into your work ... you have Yuri for that."

"Vashti, that's not nearly all I need you for ... I need you for a friend ... I need you for a son ... I need you not only to have someone to take care of, but someone to talk to, and someone to take care of me. I think you're old enough to understand that, aren't you?"

Vashti looked at her sadly. "Yes, I understand."

"Fine, then let's go inside and get you ready for bed. You know, by the way, that I want you to quit smoking, don't you? And don't you think it's time you got used to calling me Mother ... or at least Tattie?"

"I will try ... Tattie."


"Damn, that feels good Quan," Wendy said, stretching her body out as her roommate massaged her ass. Oil-covered thumbs slid down and gently worked their way into her anus every so often to help loosen her up for the experience to come.

"Yeah ... whatever," Quan grunted.

"Now, now, Takeout," Jessica said where she sat against the wall, masturbating at the sight of one of her lovers unwillingly preparing to fuck her other lover, "you should know better than to wager what you're not willing to lose."

"And you can shut the fu- maybe I shouldn't finish that sentence, QB," Quan said, seeing the look on Jessica's face. "I get the feeling you'd really enjoy beating my ass."

Jessica had found she was adapting to her role as queen bee of their little hive quite comfortably, and quite quickly. The look on her face was one of readiness.

"Oh yeah, Takeout ... I'd have you tied up so quick your pretty little eyes would spin and instead of you fucking my lover in the ass while I suck her cock, you'd be blowing her while I wore out a ping pong paddle on your butt." She got up and walked over to Quan on her knees, bringing her wet hand up to Quan's mouth. As Quan cleaned it off, she played with Quan's breast. "And when I was all through, and little Wanna-Be had finished letting a gusher loose in your mouth," she whispered none too softly, "Wendy darling and I would each take charge of one of your swollen, red, tender ass cheeks, and we'd bite on them" she pinched Quan's nipple "and just keep biting them" she pinched again "until I figured you'd whimpered and cried enough. And do you know what I'd do then, little Takeout?"

The dominant side of Quan's personality was in full retreat and her submissive side whined, "No ma'am."

"Then, my precious love, I'd take a page from my old roommates' book and tie you down so securely you couldn't move ... a ... muscle," Jessica said, punctuating her last words with kisses on Quan's neck. "And then Wendy and I would fuck, maybe all of an inch above your face, my love. There my hot, wet cunt would be ... getting fucked," she said, squeezing Quan's breast, "right over you. Where you could see it, and hear it, and smell it, maybe even taste it ... but you ... couldn't ... touch," she finished, breathing the words into Quan's ear.

The soft keening that came from Quan's throat was all the more pleasurable to Jessica as it indicated that maybe someday Quan wanted exactly that treatment.

"Now then, my sweet, let's get Wendy darling propped up and let me wrap my lips around that pretty cock of hers. Then you can get strapped in and we can pay off this bet, okay?"

"Yes ma'am," Quan replied. She caressed Wendy's butt gently, fondly as she muttered "Who knew the little slut would be so good at Monopoly?"


Margo wondered at the mix of feelings going through her as Kelly suckled at her breast. It surprised her how she could feel so maternal towards the young woman and so in love with her and so incredibly horny for her, all at the same time. It was the addition of 'maternal' to the mix that really seemed to be the source of her bemusement ... the rest of it was perfectly understandable. Of all the women in the entire group, Kelly was by far the most beautiful and sexy by societal standards. And yet she acted as if she was completely unaware of that fact most of the time. Somewhere along the way, and Margo strongly suspected that it was due to the influence of Earl and Kissie, Kelly had developed into a beautiful person, as well as a beautiful body. She stroked Kelly's hair and wondered again at the strange chain of events that had brought them all together and how much her life had changed and how much she'd grown in just a few months.

"I think I've had enough of your sublime breast, Big Mama, time for you to suck on me for awhile," Kelly said, getting up and sitting back on the seat with her legs spread. "Now let's give Mr. Driver part two of the show." She threw off the rest of her clothes and grabbed Margo's hair, dragging her face to her crotch. "And Big Mama, if I'm not screaming in orgasm in the next five minutes, when we get home tonight we're going to tie your beautiful ass down, tease you right to the edge of coming ... and leave you that way all night. You might end up calling in sick to work tomorrow if you're not careful. Now eat me, my cunt-slurping Bitch!"

Margo buried her face in her wife's wet and always fragrant cunt, rubbing her clit with her nose, her tongue diving deep between swollen lips as Margo ran her hands up Kelly's sides, feeling the smooth warm skin glide beneath her fingertips and palms. Her hands moved to Kelly's nipples, finding them erect and hard and she massaged them with her palms as she softly ran the tip of her tongue up to Kelly's clit, ever so slightly brushing it so she could gauge how close Kelly was to an orgasm.

For her part, Kelly was very close. She found making love with her oldest wife to always be an intoxicating experience, no matter who was in charge. For her, playing the Queen meant she could give in to that intoxication and no one could say anything about it. She felt Margo shift focus as she began to pay more attention to Kelly's clit and Kelly tightened her grip on Margo's hair and began to make humping motions on her face.

Margo smiled to herself; 'the Queen' was more than ready.

"Is Mama's little girl horny? Let Mama take care of that for her."

The gasp that ripped free of Kelly's mouth was so loud and sharp it filled the entire interior of the limo.

Margo, remembering an old Sam Kinnison routine, began to lick small, delicate letters around and over Kelly's clit. 'k e l l y a n n c u l b e r s o n g r i m e s i s m y b i t c h', she spelled as she worked her hands over Kelly's breasts, her thumbs teasing the young woman's nipples.

Kelly was indeed screaming in orgasm before five minutes were up ... she'd barely made it to three.


It was company policy that drivers were only to use the passenger compartment monitoring system for periodic checks on the passengers or in cases where they felt there was a risk of damage to a passenger or to the limo itself.

Albert Farlens didn't give a flying fuck about policy. He'd checked the compartment after everyone but the older woman and the young black woman had left and he hadn't turned it off since. He was glad there was a Kleenex dispenser in the driver's compartment. He'd come twice and although it pained him, he thought he might manage one more. He was just sorry there was no way he could record the incredibly hot scene taking place in the back because his co-workers, knowing that lots of kinky things happened in the backs of limos, would never believe the dialogue.


"So my little Carol, we meet again ... it's been too long. I haven't seen you since Mr. Juliana's funeral, may he rest in peace."

"Mr. Landau," Carol replied, getting up from the couch and handing her cappuccino to Harry, "you're looking wonderful." She went and hugged him.

Carmine Landau was tall, at least 6' 2", and stooped over even at that height. So thin he appeared emaciated, nonetheless his pants, shirt and vest fit him perfectly. His bald head caught the light, as did the glasses perched on the end of his nose and his grey beard seemed to glow.

"Now then, as we all know, we're on a tight schedule here," he said, "so we'll be making introductions while I'm taking measurements. Carol darling, you'll do the honors." He handed her a pad of paper and a pencil. "Remember to write clearly, in large numbers with no room to misread them. Alright, let's start with this handsome gentleman you were hanging on when I came in. He is..."

"Harry, Mr. Landau, my fiancé."

"Oy, fiancé is he? Of course I'll get an invitation?"

"Wouldn't dream of missing you, sir."

"Alright," he said, pulling the tape measure from around his neck, "let us begin."


"Can Mama's little girl come for Mama one more time?" Margo asked before going back to spelling irreverent messages on Kelly's clit.

"Oh ... I ... think ... you're ... fucking ... evil ... Mama ... and ... I ... love ... you ... so ... much ... it ... OH ... OHOH ... ooooOOOH!"

"Mmmm," Margo hummed as continued. She had pretty much decided that there was going to be a fight for dominance the next night and she had every intention of teaching the Queen that age and treachery beat youth and inexperience every time.


Fifteen minutes later they lay in each other's arms on the floor of the limo.

"Do you need ... me to do ... anything ... for you ... Big Mama?"

"No sweetie, I'm fine for now, but I am gonna get some lovin' before I go to sleep tonight."

"Oh ... count on it ... I'll strap on ... if nothing else ... I love you ... my wife."

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