He felt his cock jump with expectation as he stared at the circle of ointment delicately shimmering in the soft glow of the fire."How did you do that?... Your father has hemorrhoids," she laughed, "and luckily, I remembered that he had left a tube of 'Preparation H' up here." Huh?" Bobby grunted, turning the bottle up and finishing it."It deadens your little winkie, dear," his mother said, "so it won't hurt." Oh," he said embarrassed by his naiveté."I can feel it working already," she. I always liked tavern wenches, found most humorous and dependable people as well as hard working and generous. So when this little barmaid plopped down my beer and hopped into my lap, I was not very surprised and welcomed her wet kiss and squirming body."Let's do it," she whispered as my hand slipped under her skirt. I gulped some beer, picked her up and trotted upstairs, never one to let an opportunity slip by. I was out of my boots and britches in less time than it takes to write it. She was. ‘WHAT? I’ll fucking kill him!’ ‘No, it wasn’t like that,’ Chris quickly placated him. ‘He had a go, but I told him no and sent him packing, he didn’t get anywhere. He didn’t hurt me, Shaun — I’m fine.’ ‘Well, still,’ Shaun simmered, he realised he was crushing the can in his hand, so he took a quick sip from it before it spilled over. ‘Nobody does that to my sis. I’ll smash him one for you.’ ‘I appreciate it, Shaun,’ she told him, with a smile, ‘but please don’t. I don’t want you to get into. When left to concerned townsfolk, women suspected of sorcery were thrown into deep water in the belief that the evil that lived in them would prevent them from drowning. The vast majority though were innocent, having done little more than speak out against someone. Of course, the sheer weight of their wet clothing would have made it difficult for any of them to regain the surface, so they drowned. If they survived, they proved their guilt and were put to death by fire. Many drowned right.