Ignoring it for the moment, he gave her a big hug. She was happy to see him and they spent the rest of the night and into the wee hours of the morning...talking.As the night had worn on, he began to sense that his mother was more depressed than he had first believed. Again, giving her the benefit of the doubt, he blamed it on the alcohol.But with his youthful optimism, he knew he would be able to snap her out of it. At least, he would get her out of the house. Although he didn't know the extent. With an envelope next to him.His head ached. From the fall? From the drink? From whatever that...guy... did to him? Whatever the reason, he pulled himself into a sittingposition and reached up to feel if it was bleeding. There was no way to determine which sensation struck him first. Was itthe hair? He kept his hair short and neat, a click or two shy of a buzzcut. This hair was short, but it was ... thin and stringy. Or was ithis arm? As he moved it towards his head, he could feel the. They strode up to me. The priestesses all bowed, murmuring, “Holy Bodyguards.”“Well, she’s a tasty morsel,” the lead bodyguard laughed, the number 95 printed on her collar. She had coppery-red hair and freckled breasts, her voice lilting with a pleasant accent. “Let’s go, poppy, before we have any problems.”“Problems?” I blinked.“Never you mind your pretty, little head,” the Bodyguard said as the women surrounded me. “I guarded Mark and Mary since the Wormwood Plague, so I’ll keep you safe.”My. At twenty eight years old she was a tall, thin, auburn haired beauty with bright brown eyes, shapely legs, a flat stomach and nice firm apple sized breasts capped with big pink nipples. She and her husband Ben were a normal suburban couple who had sex three or four times a month, mostly because that is all that Ben wanted. Ben was a lawyer with a fast track career who worked seventy hour weeks and made a lot of money. Enough money that Lisa did not have to work so she was home during the day in.