Mike was brought out of his reverie by Kate's hand on his arm. "Jesus, Mike, you are jumpy! Not surprising, really. Must have been quite a shock." Kat... prattled on as she handed him a cup of hot sweet tea. "Best after the shock and all you've been through. Now I insist that you pack some clothes in a suitcase and come and stay in our spare suite; it's no trouble, and I won't hear anything else."Under the circumstances, Mike was happy to agree, and moved his important things across an hour. . drunk was an understatement. Lying on her belly, her short denim skirt hiked up round her waist, her tiny, red G-string doing nothing to hide her full ass-cheeks, her long, slender legs sheathed in dark stockings. And her high-heels still on her feet. The contents of her handbag strewn across the laminated wooden floor as though she`d struggled to find her mobile phone or something in her drunken haze.I stepped across to the sofa, kneeling down to see if she was okay. She opened her eyes. Offering me to enter first, she followed and locked the door behind us.“I trust you are adapting to your surroundings?” she asked, taking off her dress jacket.“Oh yeah, feels like home.” I quipped sarcastically, watching her drape the coat over the back of her chair, “Love the room service.”“Forms” she breathed, taking a seat while dawning glasses, “I have them somewhere.” and opened up a drawer.I stepped to the side of her desk and watched her fingers walk through dull green files. The monitor. It was less painful when once I,d filled one Sarah loved to hold it up and drink down the contents, but it still Didn,t save my poor pubic hair. Our fire play sessions were magic though. We both loved pop music from the 1960s and even though it was now 1970 it was still the sort of music people sang, danced and listened to and most could be sung along to. Occasionally we reminisced our “courting” days by Sarah wearing stockings and suspenders for me when she preferred those damned tights. Sarah.
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