I dug the scene though. Kinda freaky," he said, lowering his eyebrows and curling his soft pink lips into a scandalous smirk. It nearly gave me a hard...on, that look. In the lazy Sunday afternoon air, though, pretty much anything gave me a hard-on.Just then, the documentary started talking about the mutability of sexual desire that was present in the rave scene. They could've been talking about my life. Interspersed with the commentary were a few shots of boys kissing other boys. I waited with. Nonetheless, it was set. Marcy and I would be leaving in a couple of weeks."Did he tell you that you have a sister you never met?" Marcy asked after I got off the phone."Yeah, I heard." I answered somewhat unenthusiastically."Aren't you at least a bit excited about that?" Marcy asked as she stepped forward and put her arms around me."I guess." I answered."Oh come on." She started, "I think it will be great for you. I think it will be great for you to see your family again."I reluctantly. Samantha stood frozen to the spot; had he said, "Princess"?The woman spoke, "Hello my dear."Samantha could not for the life of her speak; she was sure he had said, "Princess".A little irritably, the woman continued, "I am the Princess Ayda formerly Mrs. The Honourable Diana Featherstone, née The Honourable Diana Sturgess, wife to His Magnificence the Emir Mahmoud Abdullah, may he live for ever. You may call me Diana; everyone else does. Has my husband given you a name yet?" I-I'm Samantha, Your. Our first and so far only time together had been my first time being so rough with a woman. By my standards anyway. Slapping her ass, pulling her hair as I fucked her from behind. It was hardly my fault if it took me a while to acclimate to kink, to make up for twenty-three years of my sex always being “polite.”Polite. I’d show her polite. I was almost at the door of the hotel room. I paused. Could I hear her inside? Had she even figured out her mistake yet? I knocked.When she opened the door,.