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”“She did. Did I ever tell you that Karin slapped me hard across the face when I was with her in Sweden during the summer of 1984?”“No, but yo... wrote it in your journal. She was right, you know. About just about everything.”“You trust my journals?” I asked.“Steve, you are your own harshest critic. I believe you report things accurately. Certainly, you didn’t pull any punches when you analyzed the ‘Becky Incident’ as we used to call it. Or the lousy way you treated some of the girls. But Karin. It was sinful. It was wrong.And here she was, thinking these wicked thoughts in front of her Lady. In front of her Lady, and her future Lord.The melody shifted, and so did the servant girl’s fantasies. She remembered the day that she’d met Sansa’s husband-to-be. She couldn’t have imagined a more perfect beau; he was a divinely attractive creature, and kind. So kind. He’d smiled at her, where most noblemen didn’t even acknowledge her presence.He’d smiled at her, and that smile had soon entered. My beloved Victor had flown to Puerto Rico on a business trip and from there he would continue a long voyage to Buenos Aires, to visit his old mother, who was ill resting at the hospital.I heard my own heels clicking and echoing in the deepest level of the underground parking garage as I walked through there, waiting for somebody to pick me up and fuck me in his car…The place was not so crowded, when suddenly somebody flashed his lights to get my attention. I smiled and picked up her pace a. She did things to my cock I loved. It wasn't long before I felt that surge from my testicles. We all enjoyed it.Cynthia leaned down and kissed me. We lay there for a while. My cock was flaccid but still inside Cynthia. She worked her vagina like she was milking a cow. It only took a few minutes she got the response she wanted. I was hard again. Cynthia made good use of my tool to build her pleasure. All of us were on that ninth wave of ecstasy. As it crashed we all howled our joy.Cynthia.
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