“It’s like I’m trying to make out something in a deep fog.”“I made one of those for you that night. I thought maybe the taste would trigger ...ome recollections.”“Like a madeleine for Proust?” she asked. “I’m afraid not.”“You finished it and then refilled your glass with cachaça -- to the brim. It was like pouring yourself a triple. You drank it all. I think that was the move that put you down for the count.”“I’m drinking up your supply.”“It’s okay. The cachaça I can get locally. I didn’t offer. I looked at the front door that started closing. It slammed shut. Cheryl returned. "Did you shut the door, Carlene? Are you embarrassed by how you are dressed?" No, Cheryl. I am proud of how I am dressed. The wind always shuts the door." I meekly answered. Cheryl gave me an evil suspicious eye and threw some shoes at me. "Put these on."They were my favourite pair of red strappies with four and a half inch steel spike heels. I slipped them on and buckled the straps around my ankles."I also found. She had given him a blow job while he watched some of her porn, then they went into the bedroom where he bent her over and licked her pussy and ass from behind, she said she came 3 time while he was doing that, tongue in her pussy finger in her ass.Finally they fucked and fucked good, his 9inch dick gave her multiple o’s and she was loving it. He came deep inside her pumping loads of hot cum inside her swollen pussy. He got off her and they both fell asleep.They woke at 7.30, he had to leave. As she walked down the hall, she kept an eye on the various wall paintings, thinking that perhaps this would help her remember her surroundings better. The landscape paintings were passive decorations, but some of the portraits stared right back at Imogen. In one painting a young girl waved at her; in another, a gentleman easily old enough to be her father leered openly, nodding his head appreciatively.She made her way to her destination without incident, closing the door to the unused.