"That's weird." I think he's having a crisis of fay-eth." Or something," Kristen said. "Why didn't he put the stuff away?" Maybe he thought I'd do it....It's a pity this door doesn't lock." There's nobody here..."They turned toward one another. Kristen laid her hands on Sister's shoulders. Sister's arms went around Kristen's waist. They gazed into each other's eyes like the lovesick schoolgirls one of them was."Kiss me, child," Sister said.Their lips touched lightly, slightly open, but the kiss. When she turned, the T-shirt sort of tightened around her. That’s when I realized that while a T-shirt did a good job of protecting most of her modesty, it had no service as a bra. A breast, smallish, pushed against the cotton fabric, punctuated with a noticeable nipple.Okay, Thomas. This ain’t THAT. You’re HELPING, not scoring chicks. I went back to driving, one hand for the wheel, one hand for the corn dog.I did note that she wolfed hers down. She was sipping her drink while I was still. This time the cry seemed to originate closer, startling a short scream from her and goading her into panicked flight, fauna leaving rents in her gown and scratches in her pale flesh. This was so real, just like she’d imagined it. The true taste of fear was like an aphrodisiac, leaving her trembling and wet with desire as she stumbled through the woods. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty.” The words were human, the growl bestial. She froze, her eyes going big, searching frantically in the dim moonlight. It was lucky that she was wearing a dress and she now understood that instruction. The egg hummed slightly, vibrated once and stopped. Lyndsay took a deep breath and returned outside. To all intents and purposes the epitome of a lady having a pub lunch. Inside she was squirming with thoughts unbidden rushing to her mind, the egg seemed to be a promise for later on.In her absence this mystery man had ordered them some food, basic pub finger food on a tray with dips and sauces. His mobile phone.