Little snippets from thenight before danced in his brain. The sound of the hustle and bustle inthe bar. The smell of the toilets as Doyle had held him... The taste of hiscum. Art shook his head a little. What had he done? How had he let it getto that point? Questions raced through his brain, as fast as the hangoverwould let them. He could have stopped it, couldn't he? Why hadn't hestopped it? Had he wanted to stop it? Could he stop it now?The deep, hum of a phone text alert sounded from behind. ”Janice left, leaving Ben and Amy to silently wonder what the other thought about starting a family of their own. Amy already knew how she felt. Now, it was just a mater of convincing Ben that he wanted the same thing . . . or things. He’d come around, she felt. It was just a matter of “when”.“So I’m a walking, talking, blubbering softie, huh?” Ben broke into her thoughts. “What do you base that statement on?”“Personal observation, mostly” Amy replied. “I’ve seen you around Tanya, and maybe you. ”“Of course.”A few moments after his son exited, a tall man entered, a tiny smile on his face. His black hair was well groomed and flowed down past his shoulders, and his chin had about two days worth of stubble growing from it. He stood next to the chair in front of Robin’s desk and introduced himself.“Robin, Duke of Saxon, it is a true pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Lord Mordred.”“Well met. Please, take a seat.”“My thanks.”“My son tells me you have a proposition of some sort to. She fantasized being on the beach being watched. In her fantasy she slept and in her sleep, her legs parted slightly. She smiled to herself as she parted her legs slightly. The fantasy she was engaged in caused her to slowly move her hips in a circular motion in response to the tingling pressure of arousal she felt in her groin.Alice had no idea that she was being watched, but she was thinking about it. It was exciting to her, thinking about someone seeing her dressed in only the briefest of.
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