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May I help you?” “ Hi there you,re obviously new here. I,m Clarice, and you,re..?” She raised her sexy eyes. “Joe after at your service, Madam!” I returned her smile. “I,m just about to enter the hotel by the rear entrance as I have a friend inside who,s waiting for me. Clarice told me. “You,ll have to walk back around to the main reception.” “Ah Joe that IS the problem. The Hotel Security Men Know me and tend to give me grief and refuse entry.” “Why would they refuse you entry Clarice?” “Joe I happen to have clients who like me to visit them so I can give them the service I,m an expert at and are willing to pay me handsomely!” “I would never guess you,re a professional!” I sighed. “Let,s just say I,m an amateur with a boring old fart of a husband and I like to let clients samplemy charms.” “Yes you must have noticed my wedding ring! I,m not about to take it off as my husband who is actually a QC or judge(Queen s Counsel) and I have an open marriage and likes to play with his. Then he squeezed Pucks cock. He was amazed at how soft yet how hard it felt. This wasn’t supposed to happen though. Amazon stiffened and tried to raise herself only to be eased back by a re-assuring Puck. Little did Max know, nor Amazon, for that matter, that as he leaned over them Puck had slid his hand between Martine’s thighs and was now busy fingering her wet and juicy vagina. Martine was surprised at how adroitly Puck had managed to enter her knickers. One second she was turned towards Max and watching his enjoyment, the next she felt a slight pressure on her crotch as Pucks fingers slid inside her. She was almost paralysed with excitement. She couldn’t do anything to stop it. Neither did she want to. Not only that, he guy sitting two seats away had now got his cock out and was furiously masturbating and signalling for her to hold his dick. Then, as suddenly as it had started it had stopped. Amazon was lifted from Max’s knees and she and Puck made their way back down to the.
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“Thanks, Ricard.” She put her weapons away and returned to the horse she’d ridden out, the dappled gray mare with the flaxen mane she’d named Nemiah. Though both the horses were well trained and calm, she had a sweeter temperament than the dark stallion. Silmaria dubbed him StarChaser for the way his coat and mane reminded her of a starless night sky. She took Nemiah’s reins and walked with the patient mare, who hadn’t seemed at all bothered by her rider’s sudden ejection from the saddle. Silmaria walked toward camp, the powerful horse clomping along beside her, lost in thought. As if conjured by the speaking of his name, the images of Ricard’s final moments flashed before her mind’s eye: the man’s battered body, the damage done at her Master’s hands, only half-glimpsed but troubling. His mad, frantic eyes glowing with their strange burgundy fanaticism. His bloodied mouth a twisted rictus. His expression didn’t falter, even as Rael cleaved the man’s head from his shoulders. She still.

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