I can feel her touch under the covers as she slips her hand under my shirt. Warmth spreads throughout as those fingers slide along my side. She traces...along my hip bone, finally reaching the elastic of my boyshorts. I turn towards her. “Too early… Can’t d-“ My words are cut off and my breath turns sharp as her hand slips into my shorts. Three fingers slide down my lips. The middle pushes between my slit, before she gives a gentle squeeze, a whimper escapes me. “You promised you’d be there.” Her. This isn't the Mischa I'm used to, she's more confident and lustful than before. Not that I minded, but what's going on? Maybe it's built up sexual frustration from my seven month absence. But it's not like she's had sex before to miss the feeling. She told me she wanted to finally make love to me when I returned, so I'm guessing she was acting on that promise. As if she were reading my mind, she whispered to me, "I'm ready." I knew exactly what she meant. My heart began racing, emotions and. Ella was everyone's girl and everyone's sister.I worked with Ella. Not in the same office, but in the same division. She worked in administration, I was in Sales. We saw each other about four or five times each year usually at sales meetings or other regional company functions.I liked Ella. As a friend. Really, I did. I'm married and so is Ella. Ella is also Black. And, unlike a number of Black men and women she did not have the "Black" attitude. When we partied, Ella was "one of the boys".Her. So she was friendly, but never inappropriate, deferring to him as expected from a messenger working for a lord, trying to maintain a veneer of professionalism even as she watched him almost as avidly as he watched her. And she resolved, over and over, every time that hope crept up on her, that she was fine with things like this, that she had important things to do, and no time for handsome archers, no matter how attractive.She was therefore entirely shocked the day that she saddled her horse,.