‘Good!’ muttered he, ‘Aouda has not got up yet, and Mr. Fogg has probably found some partners at whist.’ He descended to the saloon. Mr. Fogg...was not there. Passepartout had only, however, to ask the purser the number of his master’s state-room. The purser replied that he did not know any passenger by the name of Fogg. ‘I beg your pardon,’ said Passepartout persistently. ‘He is a tall gentleman, quiet, and not very talkative, and has with him a young lady—’ ‘There is no young lady on board,’. He hadn't came in 2 days now, and he was desperate forsome relief. But somehow he was able to ignore his hard-on and managedto finish washing and drying himself without spurting his load. As heentered the bedroom he realised that he wouldn't be able to put on hissheer tights and panty girdle until he did something about his diamond-hard penis. He therefore went into the kitchen and, after retrievingthem from the freezer, pressed a packet of frozen peas against hiscrotch. After the initial shock. More

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