It’s funny how you can get away with certain movements in public when you’re vertical. It became a game to us as we each moved sweetly against the...other, our hands barely restrained by an ever dimming sense of public propriety. Finally, he cracked. “Let me take you home,” he breathed in my ear. Stopping only long enough to be saluted by our respective groups of friends, we made for the exit, weaving in and out of swaying bodies as we went. The humid air slammed into us the moment we stepped. I had gotten numerous rides from more than a few farmers, now I was but a day outside of London when I heard a whirling whooshing of a sound going over head. Looking up I saw what appeared to be a chamber not unlike the one that had started this.Great I thought I’d have to keep my eyes open for the gray guy again. I really didn’t feel like another trip to the land of tingling nails and skin. The next day I thanked the farmer as we entered the city.I was as cautious as I could be. With the death. I could afford to create my own lifestyle, and being horny most of the time and still viable sexually at forty, just wanted to enjoy the good and simple things that life could bring. I had my hobbies and other interests to occupy me also, and kept busy each day enjoying my wonderful freedom.I found that I liked to loaf, and never really felt guilty about it. I went out of town once or twice a month for a few days, to visit interesting vacation spots, riding in a charter bus with groups of. "Who sent you?" Paul. I know him from school and he told me to come here if I ever wanted to try." Paul, huh? He's a good guy. One of the few here who's never killed anyone."I choked on my water."Killed?"The barman tilted his head again."Yeah, killed. Sometimes the gentlemen take it a little to far and... you know..."He dragged his thumb across his neck and made a "kkkhhhrrrrt" sound.I understood and suddenly I remembered the bloody handprint on the man's belly."It's not appreciated if you kill.