" I typed back to him. There was a lull in the chat while I answered a diving related question somebody asked me. "What are you up to?" He asked. "Jus... had to help someone with something. You?" "I must admit I am a little hard." "Sorry?" I typed back. "For making me hard? Somehow I doubt that. Just got a little excited about a certain slut coming to visit me." "Guess you know me too well now. I wonder who the lucky girl is..." "Are you wet, thinking about me fucking you over my table?" I was. Although my parents had never been able to afford servants, I had seen them on occasion at various Foreign Ministry affairs, and Mrs. Pembleton had a most practical curriculum in many ways. She had warned us of the immense danger that mistreated servants could be, and of the immense benefit that a properly treated servant was, and I tried to be as pleasant as possible, making no orders but only requests, and saying ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you’ frequently.After I had shown the pair how I wanted my. I looked at her quizzically, wondering if I misunderstood. She bit her bottom lip again and nodded her head.“I want you inside me…please. I’ve wanted it for as long as I can remember. Please, Hon…do this for me. Put that wonderful cock of your’s into me. I want my son to fuck me.”I was surprised by her language. I’d never heard her say ‘fuck’ before. I’d never heard her voice so low and hoarse, so full of raw passion. In a daze, I nodded and brought my hips down against hers. She opened her. What wasn't wet ... constantly, was dry ... had been dry, and was going to be dry forevermore. Saltwater crocodiles, spiders, snakes infested the coast. Australia might not use it ... might not want it ... but, by God ... neither do we want anyone else to have it. Australia's 'White' policy was in full spate.It was the Northern Territory that received the brunt of the refugees ... it was the least populated area that fit, "what we're used to" the refuse of the Asian oppression said. "There's.