The renewed screams were quite awful. Reminiscent of pigs being slaughtered. Ear-splitting. Head-ringing. “We’ll leave them for a bit,” smiled M...ralda. “To think things over.” She put her arm around Tavia. “That’s made me very randy,” she said. “Me too.” Tavia smiled back. “You’re not Princess Venetia’s personal property, are you?” asked Miralda. “Not really. But I think we ought to be discreet.” “We will be,” assured Miralda. Personal Narrative of Lady Tavia I felt a bit guilty getting into. Not so a few years ago when they would be as rare as Hen's teeth. No one living in Docklands at that time could afford a cab fare. But the influx of so many financial service types with cash burning holes in their pockets had changed all that. The cab took me back to Old Street and my office. I sat at my desk and stared into nothing. Nothing is what my life promised to be from now on. In that future, like an automaton I would take the train in the morning, my fellow passengers knowing nothing,. It might have been when mom confessed to having a lesbian affair when I was in High School. Or it might have been that mom had leaned back on the couch and put one foot on the coffee table. I could see up to her inner thigh, and her wonderful cleavage wasn’t helping my situation either. The conversation started to peter out around 12 o’clock and I realized just how hammered I really was. I made and excuse to mom that I was going to get up early to meet some friends for brunch, but the real. They drop to the ground as I step free, and kick my clothes aside. I trace my finger down to your crotch. "I dare you," you whisper in my ear. "Now, now..."I unzip your jeans, and yanks them to the ground. You step out as you pull your sweater off with your shirt. You squeak as the warm air runs about your bare breasts. You rub your body against mine. I take one of your breasts in my mouth, and flick my tongue over your nipple. You feel them begin to stiffen, and stick out like my thick lengthy.