Barbara Edwards is a tease

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Barbara Edwards, Miss September 1983, is inspired to tease after watching THE LADY EVE featuring Barbara Stanwick and Henry Fonda.

Submitted: April 13, 2013

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Submitted: April 13, 2013




Barbara Edwards didn’t mind the movies on movie nights at the Mansion but she did mind the movie party crowd. Nobody seemed to want to watch the movie, but for Barbara the silver screen really was golden; she was enthralled by the old classic films. Bogart, Grant, Tracy, they were real men. And Henry Fonda, tall and lanky, she would do him in a second.


Tonight’s movie was going to show Fonda with Barbara Stanwick on a boat and the sexy siren was going to seduce him and the luscious playmate was going to be jealous. Damn, she’d do Barbara Stanwick too; hell, she’d do both of them!


For movie night, like all the playmates, Barbara dressed to provoke and arouse; tonight her outfit was lacy arm-length gloves, a sheer halter top that accentuated every luscious curve of her cleavage and short leather miniskirt that was more like a wide belt. She sashayed into the screening feeling the eyes of dozens of men on her but she kept her eyes on the screen and watched how Barbara Stanwick taunted Fonda into a crazed state arousal simply by seeming available and then slapping him down. The dialogue was sharp and crisp but the Mansion audience talked over it and spoiled a lot of the movie for the luscious playmate. Still the stars were incredibly sexy to look at.


The movie over, the crowd was now mingling and drifting into the nocturnal intrigues of which guy was bedding which playmate; Barbara glanced over at the pack of frat boys in one corner and the pack of B list actors in the other corner. The old hands at these parties, the publisher’s regular buddies, had no problem picking up their favorite playmates and bunnies; but all the rest of the playmates and bunnies and starlets and wannabes were all giving their attention to one man.


He was the guest of honor for the party and it was a coup for the Mansion to get him. He had been on the cover of People as one of the sexiest eligible bachelors of 1983 and the cover of Time because he had just led a scientific expedition in the jungles of the Amazon. The peculiar thing was that the charms of playmate and bunny lust seemed to elude him. All he could talk about was snakes.


He was explaining the care and feeding of a newly discovered species of carnivorous reptile. “Once a day is plenty. Just a couple of flies, a sip of milk and perhaps a pigeon's egg on Sundays. Oh and a mouse at least once a month.”


The girls surrounding him were disgusted but they smiled sweetly which greatly amused Barbara who was sitting a few yards away and watching the other girls fawn over the guest. “Not good enough,” she chuckled.


“What'd you say?” asked the publisher. He was on the couch with her and had his arm possessively wrapped around her waist as she was his designated bed bunny for the evening. And she was sensational.

“I said they're not good enough for him. Every girl in the room is offering herself, and he feels they're just a waste of time.”  She giggled as Marlene Jenssen, Miss November 1982, bent to reveal her deep cleavage to the guest who studiously averted his eyes. “It's a shame that he doesn't care for the flesh. He'll never see it.”


The lovely Barbara entertained the publisher with a running commentary of the scene. “Look at that girl over to his left. Look over to your left, bookworm.  There's a girl pining for you. A little further. Just a little further. There! Wasn't that worth looking for?  See those nice teeth beaming at you? The suspense is killing me. Who else? The lady champion wrestler.  Wouldn't she make a handful?” The guest bowed to the circle of women and began to make an exit. Barbara continued her commentary as though she were speaking to him now. “You don't like her either.  What are you going to do about it?  He just can't stand it anymore.  He’s leaving. These women don't give you a moment's peace, do they? Go sulk in your room.  Go soak your head and see if I care!”


She stuck out a dainty ankle the guest tumbled head over heels in front of her. “I'm very sorry, sir,” she said, struggling to suppress a giggle.

“That's all right.” He stumbled to get himself up again.

“Why don't you look where you're going?” she cruelly scolded. 


“Why don't I look…?”

“Look, you knocked the heel off.” Her face could not hide her amusement.


“Oh, I did? I'm sorry.”

“You did, and you can take me right to my room for another pair of slippers.”


“The least I can do. My name's Sturges.”


“Everybody knows.Nobody's talking about  anything else. I’m the new Miss September. My real name is Barbara.” She slid her arm under his for support.


He liked walking with her arm in arm. “Funny our meeting like this, isn't it?” 


“Yes, isn't it?” Her voice was filled with teasing delight. Chuckling, she led him upstairs and she let the daggers of the other girls’ stares tickle her back.

Soon they were in one of the rooms designated for playmates staying at the Mansion. It was filled with gowns and lingerie everywhere.


The guest, who had been up the Amazon for a while, was impressed. “This is quite a room.”


“Pretty cozy, isn't it?”


He was sniffing the air like rabbit sensing trouble. “Holy Moses!”


“What's the matter?”

“That perfume.”


“What's the matter with it?”


“It's just that I've been up the Amazon for a year, and they don't use perfume.”


“Oh.” She brazenly laughed in his face. “The shoes are over here.Because you were so polite, you can pick  them out and put them on if you like.”

She led him to a closet that was too stuffed to close. Shoes covered the floor and spilled out onto the carpet too.


The guest sank to his knees with Barbara’s help so he could pick a pair of shoes for her.  “Push that side. There.”

His face was pressed against her leg and he could feel her warm skin under the silk stockings. “Holy Moses!”


“See anything you like?” She rubbed her thigh on his cheek. “The evening slippers are over there.” She chuckled at his discomfort.


Still savoring the feel of her against his cheek he tentatively reached for some bejeweled sandals. “Those the ones you want? Doesn't seem possible for anybody to wear anything that size.”

She pretended to swoon. “Oh, that's pretty.” She sashayed over to the bed and sat down. She held up her shapely leg and proffered her elegant foot. “You'll have to kneel down.”

He crawled from the closet to the bed. Kneeling he gingerly held her ankle. “I hope I didn't hurt you.”


“Of course you didn't.” She smiled slyly as he buckled the fragile strap around her ankle. His hands were trembling. He spent an inordinate amount of time at her feet; as if in a trance he gazed at her face and lightly stroked her calves. Barbara liked the feel of his touch but he looked kind of dopey. She sighed. “Don't you feel well?” Her voice was thick and sultry.

“Oh, I'm all right.”

Now she was light and breezy. “What were you doing up the Amazon?”


“Looking for snakes. I'm an ophiologist.”


While he stroked her calf as if in a trance she curled her fingers through his hair and breathed warmly on his face. The electric charge of erotic play was palpable, almost like a whiff of ozone in the air.


Even though her body was taunting him her voice was glib. “I thought you were in the beer business.”




She was mildly annoyed now. “What's the difference?”

“ Between beer and ale?”



“My father'd burst a blood vessel if he heard you say that. There's a big difference. There's no similarity at all.” Barbara tsked sexily.  He noticed.  “It's funny to be kneeling here  at your feet talking about beer. You see, I don't like beer.  Bock beer, lager beer or steam beer.”

“Don't you?”


“I do not!  And I don't like pale ale, brown ale, nut brown ale, porter or stout,

and it makes me ill just to think about it.” His fingers were lightly caressing over her ankle; with the buckle closed he had no reason to hold her leg except that it was delightful to hold it.

She could feel his arousal even as he complained about beer.  “Excuse me.”


He continued to mumble while he stroked her leg. “Wasn't enough, so everybody would call me Hopsie ever since I was six. Hopsie Sturges.”


“Hello, Hopsie.” Her voice was light and teasing.


“Make it, Edmund, will you?


Laughing, she stroked his hair as he finished buckling the shoes. “All right, but there's something  kinda cute about Hopsie.” She teased his hair into curls. “And when we’re in bed and you’re going at it, really giving me a drilling, and I love getting drilled by the way, when you’re drilling me I could moan, “Oh Hopsie, Hopsie! And when you came I’d scream out Hopsie Popsie!”




“Oh you get the picture. You haven’t been up the Amazon that long.” Her tongue darted out, a little glimpse of sexy pink. She gripped his short cropped hair and tugged teasingly.


“I guess.”


“I’m a girl who likes to make a little noise Hopsie.”


“That's all I'd need.”  He laughed nervously and looked around for a distraction from Barbara’s frankly sexual allure. He fixed his gaze on the elegance of her ankle and foot. “Here's a business I wouldn't mind.  I never realized how lovely it could be.”


“Oh, thank you.” She looked at him doubtfully. She leaned away and struck a pose, one hand behind her head and the other on her cheek. She raised her hips slightly and she looked like a classic pin up. “A better job would be shooting Playboy Playmates.”


“I guess,” he mumbled. She reached out for his hands and her fingers were warm on his palms.


She drew him to her as she slowly leaned back onto the bed. “I meant photographing playmates,” she said. She draped her body over the bed and arranged him along side of her. She rested her head on his arm and nuzzled toward him. “You could shoot me without my clothes on. Would you like that?” To give him a taste her lace gloved hand teased his head up until his check was pressed to the sheer sash over her left nipple. There was an even more sheer bra under the sash. He nuzzled into the fabric pushing it away to reveal the hard candy treat underneath.


His mouth opened and engulfed the sweet red nub but she giggled and pushed him away but she pulled him right back, pressing his cheek against the bare nipple. He breathed in the aroma of her; her skin emitted a dizzying blast of perfumes and sweat and he groaned as if he were being lowered into the deep black universe of her bed.


His hand touched her bare thigh and Barbara gasped softly, pushing him off her. “We'd better get back now.”


“Go back?” He tumbled off the bed as Barbara rose hastily. He tried to regain his dignity. “I mean, uh, there's something  about that perfume that...”


“Don't you like my perfume?” she asked while she quickly rearranged her clothes.


“I thought you wanted to…I thought we were going to…” He gestured hopefully toward the bed as he followed her toward the door.


“Why, Hopsie, you ought  to be kept in a cage. I have to be with Mr. H tonight. I can’t be playing with an ophiologist.” She rolled the scientific term in her mouth gazing at him as though she were devouring him. “You’re a naughty boy Hopise.” She took his hand and led him back to the party, blatantly fixing her clothes as she strolled along.

“Ah, there you are. It certainly took you long enough to come back in the same outfit.” The publisher was cordial to the man but he gave Barbara a scowl.

“I'm lucky to have this on, Barbara gigged. “Mr. Sturges has been up a river for a year.”

“Now, look, I...” 


The publisher, still scowling held up a hand. “Pay no attention to Barbara; she is genetically designed to tease. She can be trying except when she chooses otherwise.”


“And what fun otherwise can be.” With her eyes the lovely playmate devoured her prey. Sturges gulped.


“You’ll have to learn to cope.” The publisher tried to sound reassuring. He noted Barbara’s lustful interest in his guest and he didn’t like it.


“Well, I'll try,” Sturges said meekly.


Barbara sat between him and the publisher on the couch. “Every man for himself.”  She brazenly squeezed Sturges’ thigh. 


“I, uh, what? Um. Oh. Well...  You go up the Amazon for a year, and then you come out and meet you...”


Barbara laughed. She turned to the publisher. “Don’t you want to play some of your board games?” Her voice was almost cruel.


Once more scowling the publisher gestured to a game already set on the table. “I’ve been waiting for you.”


“You're probably too good for us.” Barbara was speaking to the publisher but she was gazing seductively into the other man’s face.

“I don't have to play my best. Besides, playing with you...” The publisher’s voice was almost whining.


“…Would always be a pleasure.” Sturges’ finished his host’s sentence but he was lost in the tempest behind Barbara’s eyes. “But I’d hate to leave Barbara out…”


“Aren't you sweet?” She smiled wickedly.

“Aren’t we going to play now?” The publisher was whining openly at this point.

Sturges blinked, attempting to break free of Barbara’s increasingly erotic gaze.  “Isn't there a three-person game?” he said desperately. “I seem vaguely to remember having...”


“Of course there is, backgammon chouette,” the publisher enthused.


 “And it'll be much cozier,” added Barbara.


Barbara laughed once more but invited her guest to take her turn with the dice to determine order of play.


Backgammon was an obsession for the publisher and he grew more and more annoyed as the game progressed. Not only was Barbara brazenly flirting with his guest as they played but even with Barbara’s alluring charms to distract him the guest was still winning. And when his guest handily defeated him he was quietly enraged.

Finally the publisher gave up. While Barbara was a superb bed bunny he decided that tonight he would need a more docile playmate. He signaled to Veronica Gamba who was surrounded by some frat boys. Barbara followed the publisher’s eyes and caught the exchange between the publisher and the poor girl. Veronica reluctantly shuffled across the room and Barbara realized that Veronica was in for a long night.


“I think I’ve had enough here,” the publisher mumbled while he rose from the couch.


“I really feel very guilty about this.” The guest was trying to fend off Barbara’s still lustful gaze. He looked down forlornly at the game pieces.


“Don't let it worry you.”


“It's a good thing we're not playing for money.”


“Weren't we playing for money?”  Barbara’s voice was chirpy and cheerful. 


“Of course not. I never play for money.”  Sturges was confused.


“We always play for money. Otherwise, it's like swimming in an empty pool.” Barbara laughed.


Sturges frowned, even more confused now.


Veronica was now at the publisher’s side and Barbara was smiling at her sympathetically. The publisher was anxious to get her upstairs. He planned to take his revenge for losing out on her body. “I owe about $500,” he said unhappily. “I’ll pay in the morning. Barbara, you owe roughly $100.”


“That's rough enough.” She laughed. “Maybe I can work it off.” 


Sturges gulped uncomfortably. The publisher scowled. He squeezed Veronica’s arm with enough pressure to make her wince. Once more Barbara felt a twinge of sympathy for what the poor girl was in for. Veronica looked around helplessly as the publisher led her away. 


Barbara leaned languidly back on the couch. She licked her lips as she gazed at her prey. “He's a nice fellow,” Sturges mumbled nervously.


“He's a good player too.” She stroked his ankle with her foot.


“You think so?  I don't want to be rude, but he seemed a little uneven.”


“He's more uneven sometimes than others.”


“That's what makes him uneven. But now you, on the other hand, with a little coaching, you could be terrific.” 

“Do you really think so?”


“Yes, you have a definite nose.”


“I'm glad you like it.  Do you like any of the rest of me?”


“Oh, what I meant was  in the game-playing sense...”


“I know what you meant.  I was just flirting with you.”




“You're not going to faint,  are you?”


“Who, me?  Uh, it's that perfume.”




“Do you think they're dancing anyplace at this party?”


“Don't you think we ought to go to bed?”


“You're certainly a funny girl  for anybody to meet...who's just been up  the Amazon for a year.”


“Good thing you weren't up there two years. Come on.” 


“Um, wouldn’t you like to stay and have some more wine?” 


By now the room was more or less empty; they had a private corner to themselves as the last of the guests lingered by the bar far away on the other side.


As he was refilling the wineglasses once more she had a thought and smiled a devilish grin to him.

“What?” he asked handing her a glass.

“Want to up the stakes a little bit?”

“Hmmm, what do you have in mind?”

“Loser takes of a piece of clothing,” she grinned to him.

“But look at me; I’m fully clothed. And you… you’re barely dressed as it is. I have the advantage; how fair is that.”


She shrugged as a matter of form; her eyes, on the other hand, sparkled with wickedness. “Well you will have more incentive to win is all won't ya! Are you in?”


He drank.

She sat back and took a little sip of wine and let the question dangle for a time in the air.



“Alright then, I will take those odds,” he said, and started setting up the next game, which ended in minutes with him taking off his socks.

“Great, what a prize for me!” She laughed as he held them up in the air and tossed them aside.

The next game went to him. She slowly stood up and wiggled out of her stockings and dropped them in a pile, then settled back down. After an hour of games she had lost her hair tie and her bra and panties, but still had her dress. Her nipples he couldn't help but see were more prominent and large against the fabric.

He was now only wearing a undershirt and shorts. It was getting down to serious business and she felt that she knew exactly how to win this tournament. In one slow game she managed to win his briefs leaving him in a shirt. His cock was free, but unseen under the table. Still, he felt red-faced as he set up the game that would be the end of all this and him if he wasn't careful.

He placed the last piece and rolled his dice. He felt a soft light stroking against his thigh as her soft, small foot traveled up his inner leg. He looked up to see a big smile on her face.

“So is it my turn then, Hopsie? Good,” she smirked and rolled a high number and moved several pieces into place.

As he attempted to move his pieces her foot became much more exploratory as it found the tip of his cock and just lightly caressed over it with her toes. “Oh come on, that isn't fair!” he said, but the pleasure was too much to bear and he couldn't fight the inevitable erection.

She took her turn and again moved several more pieces leaving him with only one place to go on the board and knowing if he did she would land there on her next move and removing his piece from play for a long time.

He did the only thing he could and played dirty as well. His foot moved under the table and ran up her inner thigh and stroked her there.

She closed her eyes and let out a gasping sigh. “Mmmm, now who's not playing fair?” She made a decision and whispered it out in a husky voice. ”Let’s forget this game and play something else.”

She smiled and sat up onto the sofa and lay back. From where he sat he had a perfect view of her sex and the moistness there. He moved around the table on his knees and moved up with her, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her softly and for a long time. Her mouth was warm on his and the taste of her lips was overwhelming and good. She tasted of wickedness and wine and witchcraft; her mouth was willowy and willing.

He stroked softly, one finger on her nipple and absorbing  the sexy hardness of the cany red nub. “Oh, Hopsie! You seem to know all sorts of games. Let me show you one.”


 She pulled up his shirt and then reached down and explored the thickness of his cock. “Hopsie, you naughty boy! You should keep your snakes in a cage!” He groaned as the sexy playmate brazenly regarded his tumescence. She groaned and ran her fingers slowly over the shaft and he sighed and kissed her once more. She slipped the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms trapping him in his garment and she laid him back on the sofa.

His hands under his back, she caressed his nipples and pinched them smiling as she did and lowering herself to take one and kiss it and suck on it, flicking her tongue back and forth, fast and hard. Her hair fell around her face hiding her antics from his sight and she took the nipple in her teeth and nibbled a little on him, then moving to his neck, she kissed him there and on up to his mouth.

She straddled him and lifted the hem of her leather skirt  up and over her head, finally revealing her body to him.


“What do you think, Hopsie? Do you have girls like me on the Amazon?” She laughed as he groaned in reply.


Barbara felt the stiffness of his cock against her ass and moved on it a little, teasing him with her body before going down on his legs and pinning him there while both hands stroked and caressed his shaft from uppermost to base. His balls played loosely in her open fingertips, then she caressed up the tip from the underside and cupped her palm over him, then down again. Long, slow strokes and she watched him receiving her pleasures even as he struggled to get his hands free.

She brushed her hair back on her face and smiled down on him, then lay so she could almost kiss his cock and she actually licked the air around him, her glistening tongue gliding millimeters away from the pulsating erection; she teased down one side and up the other before holding him almost to her lips, letting her warm velvet tongue flit in and out like a snake’s. His eyes closed as she again stroked him with her fingers and reached under him finding his hole and fingering him there with a wet index finger. He groaned and wiggled under her and she blew moist hot air over the head of his shaft. “I’d love to give you head, Hopsie, but after all, we just met.”

She felt that wonderful tingle begin in her body and touched herself so he could watch. She was up on her knees in full view of him and her forefinger disappeared up inside her as she rubbed herself to full arousal and thumbed her clit. “Oooo, Hopsie, I feel very naughty.”


The expression on his face told her he was enjoying this scene and she moved her index finger in as well and felt the fullness against her inner walls as they moved faster and harder, as she started to reach orgasm. He wanted to speak to her, but nothing left his mouth as she started to shake into her own pleasures.

“Mmmm I want you inside me!” she moaned and moved onto him lowering over his cock and almost pushed him inside her as his hips rose instinctively to take her. She rose up but only let his cock rub along her slit and over her belly. She giggled, wrapping her arms around the top of his head and letting her round breasts fall to his lips. “Not here though, Hopsie, not in front of all these people.”


Groaning he glanced around the empty room.

“But you can suck my nipples. Suck me, please....” she panted and moved up on him and held his cock for only a moment of sheer pleasure.

He licked and sucked at one nipple. Feeling the hard thick nub in his lips and against his teeth, he nibbled and kissed her hard. She moaned steadily and started to pump on his cock faster still as he enjoyed her breasts against his face. Her body was hot and her face was as red as the leather skirt she took off as she took him to someplace else for a moment and she felt his cock throb in preparation for orgasm; she hit him on his on chest. “Hopsie!” she scolded.

The kissing that followed was sweet and warm, and she let his hands free so they could stroke her face and hair as he kissed her neck and lips for ever. In a tangle of arms and legs they writhed, well trapped in the dangerous sofa.

He looked over at the unfinished backgammon game and flicked the pieces she had taken from him into the tray as she kissed one of his nipples and fingered the other.

He looked at her and smiled, “Is this how backgammon usually ends?”

She laughed wickedly and he laughed nervously. He held her tightly, pushing her back against the back of the sofa as he covered her in his body and kissed her deeply before she pushed him off.


“Good night.” She said it huskily.




She slipped her clothes on and smiled at him. “Why don’t you walk me to my room?”


He quickly pulled on his pants and shirt and she, lady-like and demure, allowed her arm to be taken.


Upstairs he became confused. “I'm afraid we're in the wrong hall.”


“Isn't that a coincidence?”


“For heaven's sake, here's my room.”  He was suddenly uncomfortable but Barbara was grinning.



Sturges cleared his throat. “Would you care to come in and see Louise?


“That's a new one, isn't it?” She laughed lustily.


“Shh. I don't want to wake her up.”


“Wake who up?”




“Louise? I thought that was just a gag.”


“Technically, she's a atropureus ophiodes fragilis, which seems to be a rare type  of Brazilian glass snake, which I'm...”


“A snake!”


“She seems to have got out again.”


“She's out?”

“Well, don't worry.  She's around here someplace.”

“Let me out of here!

“Oh, don't be frightened.  She's as playful as a kitten.”

Screaming, Barbara dashed around the room.


“Don't do that!  How's that going...”


She continued to scream as she jumped on the bed like it was a trampoline. She leapt into the air and onto the floor. In a moment she was running down the hall. She screamed the entire time with the hapless man following and trying without success to shush her.


She ran into her own room and held the door open until he entered. She was still screaming as she slammed the door behind him.


“I'm sorry. I wouldn't have frightened you for anything in the world.”  He sputtered as he frantically gestured for her to calm down.

“Why didn't you tell me...” She leaned against the door, her magnificent chest heaving up and down. Her firm nipples caressed the fabric covering them.

“I thought you understood.”


“How could I understand? Why should I suspect an apparently civilized man...”


“Oh,” she gestured, “Look under the bed.”

“How could she possibly get down here?”

“ Please!”


“ Oh, all right.” 


He crawled on the floor. Barbara stood where he could be certain to have a magnificent view of her shapely legs. He pulled out something long and shimmering.


“Oh!”  She leapt back to her position against the door.


“It's just a stocking.”


“If you see any more, just leave them there. Now, look in the bed.”


“In the bed? How could she possibly...” 


“Oh, go on now.”


“You know how fast we came down, so you can imagine...” 


“Oh!”  Barbara started again as Sturges held up something long and nasty.


“What’s….?” Then he blushed as he realized what he was holding.


“It's nothing,” she giggled immodestly, “but it might have given me a shock. Nothing like a cold dildo.”


“I guess it would have frightened you,” he mumbled, stowing the sex toy under a pillow.


“Oh! They would have had to peel me off the ceiling. Come over here and sit downbeside me.”






“Yes, very. Oh, sorry.”


“Hold me tight. Oh, you don't know what you've done to me.”


“I'm terribly sorry.”


“Oh, that's all right.”


“I wouldn't have frightened you for anything in the world. I mean, if there's anyone in the world I wouldn't have wanted to, it's you.”


“You're very sweet.  Don't let me go.”


“Thank you.”


Barbara sighed gently. She could feel his erection expanding inside his pants as it pressed against her thigh.  “How was everything up the Amazon?”

“All…All right, thank you.”


“What are you thinking about?”



“Are you always going to be interested in snakes?”


“Well, snakes are my life in a way.”


“What a life.”


“Oh, I suppose it does sound sort of silly. I mean, I suppose I should have married and settled down.”


“Oh. You say that's why you've never married?”


“Oh, no. It's just that I...  I've never met her. I suppose she's around  somewhere in the world.


“It would be too bad if you never bumped into each other.”




“I suppose you know what she looks like and everything.”


“I think so.”


“How are her teeth?” 




“You should always pick one out with good teeth. It saves expense later.”


“Oh, now you're kidding me.  –


“Not badly. You have a right to have an ideal.”


“Oh, I guess we all have one. What does yours look like?”


“He's a little short guy with lots of money.”


“Why short?” 


“What does it matter if he's rich? It's so he'll look up to me, so I'll be his ideal.”


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