Paper and Silk
The American detective's desk was suffering of a strange illness over his absence: paperwork gathered upon its surface, mountains and mountains of it by now, and it remained unattended…
"Where the Hell is Orcot's ass hiding?" the chief would be yelling all the time, and Jill would proceed to dial Leon's phone number, immediately sent to voice mail.
What they didn't know was that such phone lay forgotten within the one jeans' pocket, someplace upon a luxurious carpet, as the detective lay amidst a mountain of a thousand silk pillows, skin bared and limbs entangled with his Chinese lover's own.
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