quīnquāgintā   quīnque

"Be sure to figure out the shape and rage of your hound whenever you would go on a walk with it. Do not not make it make a mess of people's pride and tame the grits people would not be able to train. Teach it to be patient and not everything it did wish to have would be able to get. Nobody gets that."

She stood from him. She had touched the the waist of the panther that had fallen. Hell! He had nursed the wrong thoughts.

He had thought that she was going to hold his erection and fiddle with it. He had thought that she would be make him feel what he had been trying to feel.

He had thought that she would help him to attain the rage of pleasure he had been trying to put up with.

How wrong he had been. How stupid he would seem to keep nursing that same thought. He should use some better thoughts of course.

Those would be the only thing he would be able to put up with. He must be smart enough of course.

"Many mercies for the worries, dear Nymph."