The Duchess's Death

James Spooner bowed deeply. Her Majesty values you, worships you, and wishes you to be in her once again. So who? Our Spooner? Exactly. Now get lost, Spooner. Also, I smell a spin of... Oh, my god. The Duchess was as wet as a summer in Manchester. Belinda knew what to do down here and her buttery fingertips rubbed the Duchess's vaginal pleats with all the ... That's new pleats. Very neat. Neat folds. And very ironed. Thank you.