"Oh, there you are," she said.I was petrified. This was the woman who wanted to kill me and had stolen my wife. Her voice was deep, but it wasn't quit... a man's voice either.Oh, please go away-please go away. But, she didn't. Instead, she descended the steps. I tried to shrink back, when she grabbed my ankle."Lookie-lookie, Jillie's wearing fuck-me pumps in bed... How kinky."It wasn't by choice that I had the heels on, I didn't even think about them anymore. The only time I was allowed to take. I considered sitting back and enjoying the view, but, conscious of time, I quickly redressed her (minus her tights) and neatened her clothing and sat on the bench with her. If all went as planned, she would have no recollection of the minute or so before she passed out, or of what happened while she was. Crucially though, she would also be exceptionally aroused and open to suggestion to whom ever emitted a specific chemical pheromone, a pheromone which I just happened to be wearing. Mere. "He got a place," she cried oblivious to anyone else in the bar. "He got a place. Thank you, Hank. Thank you so much."Hank smilingly took her hands. "No," he said softly. "I merely got you started. This is the chap who won the place." He turned to Nigel and held out a hand. "Congratulations and well done! That's great news."Nigel shook his hand. "Thank you, sir," he said simply.Fiona pulled herself together and did the introductions. Hank bought a round of drinks and they sat down at a table. He was getting closer. Closer. Clos – Dylan sat bolt upright, grasping his chest and gagging, sweat coating his face. He took huge gulps of air, the blood pounding in his ears and head. He hadn’t had that dream in a long time. Almost 5 years. Relaxing slightly, and catching his breath, Dylan adjusted his eyes to the hotel room. It was light outside and the clock on the night table said it was just after nine. He flopped backwards into the pillows, damp from his nightmare. He stayed this way.