Sandra Moilanen

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Poor Gabriel's soul was fed with a luxury of content by having her over him, her eyes critically regarding his skilful shears, which apparently were going to gather up a piece of the flesh at every close, and yet never did so.
Sandra Moilanen
Phallic? Sexual? His restraint/control of the flesh/body. Wise use of his ~instrument~
Far from the Madding Crowd
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