What are you doing?”“I am sitting with nothing on but my pyjama pants with my prick hanging out. I am visualising you sitting in front of me in ju...t your nighty. Lift the front of your nighty so I can see your breasts. Are you doing that?”“Yes I am looking at my breasts in the mirror and imagining it’s you looking at them.”“I love looking at your breasts. Rub and pinch your nipples and pretend it is me doing it.”“I feel as if you are playing with my breasts and they are getting hard and. God I hoped we were right. The plan, its execution, the fighting, all of that had been practiced so much that it was almost second nature. What we couldn't practice was waiting. The stores we had left in the house consisted mostly of our supply of booze - both scavenged and homemade, and we hoped that the invaders would find it and take advantage of it as we waited for the sun to go down. All communication, now, was through the sound-powered phones, but instead of the squawkbox normally used to. My father has spoken kindly of you and yourkin. And I have seen you myself in the village and am glad of yourcompany this day.SIMON'tis a fur piece from the inn to this shoppe, and I am most glad andgrateful to have a moment's respite, and the promise of a full bellysoon... what is that wonderful smell coming from the hearth? What morselsstew in the cook pot? My father has told me more than once that thekey to the married man's happiness is what fills the cook-pot... Idaresay he was speaking. Normally she might be offended, but she understood it was part of the magic of this place. She had a sense that she had more work to do.She left the room, and went into the corridor, heading for the next room.In it, she opened the door to see a man closer to her age, from the south, dark and lithe, in sharp contrast to what she had seen before. But the darkness of her eyes and the eagerness in them was all she needed to know. This time she would take control, in a manner of speaking. He was.