“I’m not married now, it’s a leftover before my divorce. I wear it now to keep some of the guys away at work. It’s more of a habit than anythi...g else. I can’t wear it while riding, I am always afraid it will slip off.”“Oh thank goddess! I’ve tried relationships with married women before, in my younger days. But it never works well.”She grinned, “Good for me. Now, Brooke, I don’t know about you, but I am starving for some strange reason!”I grinned back. “Well, I know a place that can stand two. Follow me downstairs."I followed him downstairs.Behind the foyer, beneath the main set of stairs, and concealed behind a panel was another set of stairs going down. The steps were hard, rough cement, and when we entered, I could see a faint yellow shaft of light below."Go on down. I'll be behind you."I crept down the stairs grasping the handrail. At the bottom was a heavy wooden door with bands of iron. It stood open, and beyond was a chamber with dressed stone walls and a low ceiling. From the. It begins deep in the pit of me, a burning, a building. The pressure of my pleasure mounts and my body movements quicken to match my racing pulse. The sensation builds in me to a point that it feels as if it could kill me, a point somewhere beyond the boundary between pleasure and pain. Then comes a crashing finality as I let loose the tension in my stomach. My groans, my fire and my passion all escape me into her. The world slowly comes back into focus as I spiral back down to lay at her side.. At first glance, she was stunningly beautiful. Her eyes were the color of coffee. Her hair, also a dark brown, was tied messily into a bun, leaving two long strands to hang freely from either side of her face. She wore a short black skirt, complimented by a light blue blouse with long sleeves. I found myself beginning to stare. Quickly, I searched for something to say. ‘I-…uh…excuse me?’ I asked, still taken aback by her beauty. She laughed. ‘The coffee…it’s Colombian.’ She replied, brushing a.