Book1:TeDream-Maker
Iwouldputitonthehand,likeasixthfinger．No，thatwon’tdoeither．Itwouldhamperthehandthathastodoheavymanualworksometimesandthatwouldhurtthepeniswhichissosensitive．Ohwell，Isupposetheinaldesignisthebest．Itkillstwobirdswithoosocarriedawaywithhisthoughtsthathestoodtherefingeringhispenis,fettingtoputitbatohistrouserslongafterhehadfinishedurinating． Leavingtheclumpoftrees，Dimitritinuedonhisway．Heraisedhisheadandsawthatnotfarawayfromhimabedofblood-redroses,brilliantandgeous,werebloomingvigorously．Hereproachedhimselffornotnotigthemearlierduringhiswalksaroundtheke．Itwouldhavebeenapityifhemissedthemintheprimeoftheirbeauty，hethought． "Iwillsleepheretonight"hedecided．”Itisspringnow，soitshouldoocold．