They said she was special, and of course, she was. They made sure she was perfect, shaped her mind and body into the Architect’s. Greedy needles in ...er marrow. She could’ve have been happy a quiet whore; they made her a soldier instead. She was to fight for dumb monkeys against their bitch of a planet.Standing alone against the heat, and the sea her weapon, she found new ways for them to thrive. She built the Shields, while maids made her dresses, from nothing but flimsy stuff. And for every. "I can make it from here. This probably isn't going to be pretty."She pushed the door closed and I heard her grunting as she went back to the toilet. Then I heard Les scream in pain.I wasn't going to stay in the hallway for that. I pushed the door open and rushed in. Les had her hand on the back of the toilet, trying to get up from a sitting position. There were tears on her cheeks. "I guess you hurt me more than either of us thought. I can't sit down. But I've got to empty this out."I felt. She screamed, as she had never been so full of cock until that moment. He continued to slide in and out but a bit slower and gentler. She said she had an orgasm after about ten thrusts from his cock and as time went by he got faster and harder until her mind was just full of pleasure and she was orgasming it seemed like constantly. He turned her around once and picked her up and lowered her onto his cock and sat her on the kitchen bar with her legs wrapped around his waist and he drove fast and. She had showed me it by the brazen way she overtook traffic onthe right before turning left in her car with her 75 plaqued'immatriculation and with her disdain for the right wing politics of thevineyard owners of Burgundy.Yes, Laurence was, like me "une ?trang?re".Only I did not know it yet. I still thought of myself as "un ?tranger"although with my poor French accent when I first arrived in Beaune I tendedto describe myself as "une ?trang?re" much to the amusement of Laurence andmy fellow.