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Updated: May 24, 2025
He bent down, knocking aside her flailing arms, and pulled her closer to him. "Better tell your husband where the book is, Cuddles!" She cursed and he drew her closer. He bent down, forcing her head back and setting his lips on hers. From somewhere, wetness touched his cheek; he lifted his head and looked down. The wetness came from tears that spilled out of her eyes and ran off onto the mattress.
They are all so delightfully clever and unusual and interesting," piped the Wax-moth from a crack above them. "Come here, you dear, downy duck, and tell us all about your feelings." "I wish she'd go!" Sacharissa lowered her voice. "She meets these er oddities as they dry out, and cuddles 'em in corners." "I suppose the truth is that we're over-stocked and too well fed to swarm," said Melissa.
There was nothing phony this time as she hit the floor. "Just a matter of co-ordination, Cuddles," he told her. "Little girls shouldn't play with knives; they'll grow up to be old maids that way." Fury blackened her face, but she still couldn't function. He picked her up and tossed her back into the room.
Much of the softness which Frances had for the highland bonnet was in her voice as she replied, and the little bonnet itself was being nestled against her cheek, as a mother cuddles a baby's hand. "The best that's in me goes out to that man," said Nola solemnly and truthfully, Frances knew "but I wouldn't take him from you now, Frances, even if I could.
It cuddles and coos, it glows and floods a gentle comforting stimulating warmth. And the best there is lying asleep within the thing so brooded over awakes. It answers to that creative mothering warmth.
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