Before the wan, morning sun had made an attempt to brighten the gloom, only nine souls of Ballachulish were still alive. One soul, Callum McInnis, had...secreted himself out of the village to safety, then skulked away in silence and regret to tell of what happened, while the other eight would soon wish their lives hadn’t been spared. One of those eight was Mary MacKinnon, a season left to be eighteen years, who lived with her parents in the small village and worked the kelp with them. Till. The thrill I felt as I pulled them down and off my bare feet releasing my hard-on which sprang up and slapped against my belly. I was so hard. Oh, the feeling of the air on my genitals, the realisation of being naked outdoors. I stroked myself a few times and brushed my sac against a stand of soft ferns. It felt so good. I walked away from my clothes. Just a few turns between the trees and they were out of sight. It was scary, but so exciting. The air on my naked body, the soft dampness of pine. Yes, it is me. And I am so, so, so sorry. I should have called you to let you know our travel plans had changed. But I didn’t think it would really matter and I didn’t think for one minute that I was going to find a naked man in my bed when I got home ... and ... and ... and ... and ... yes I asked him to fuck me and yes ... yes ... yes he did fuck me ... and I am so sorry. It is all my fault. Please don’t blame Adam here. He wanted to go home but I wouldn’t let him. I will understand if you. This was when I heard a loud bang, after which some human voice complain, in Arabic, about the pain of having stubbed her toe. I looked up and saw a young woman who had to be about eighteen or nineteen, thereabouts. Then my potential omniscience expanded into actual knowledge and I realized that it was her eighteenth birthday after I took away the pain of the stubbed toe ... She was Radwa al-Rassi, the youngest daughter of ultra-conservative Salafist parents in Cairo, Egypt. She was naked and.