Once there we pick seats pretty close to the stage. ::Sidney’s POV:: I, Sidney Ann Markley, am about to graduate after four fucking years of hell. ... am incredibly relieved, and maybe even a little… sad…. Not that I’ll ever admit that to anyone. Standing back stage waiting to walk and get my diploma, in an ocean of every one’s family and friends, I can easily pick mine out. But more important, I can see Kristina. I’m ecstatic that she came today. Although I’m not surprised. She’s been pretty. For many big problems in life, there is an underlying small petty problem at the heart of it; tiny wounds that fester into something greater. In this instance, the great Lady Ayleth might have been relatively kind to some of her favorite attendants, such as your Cedany, but she was often much less than kind to some of her other ladies. In particular, one such lady, Gwynth, a daughter of one of the larger southern landholders, a baron I believe, apparently had a particularly thin skin for such. There was no way to console her because I was too busy trying to figure everything out myself. After another two or three agonising minutes, Jess just stood up without looking at me and walked towards the door. My mind was racing to find the words but I just couldn't do it. "Jess..." She stopped still by the door, openly crying, her body shaking but as I opened my mouth the words failed to materialise again. With a final sob she left the room, leaving me cursing myself and life itself. How had. Guinevere scrambles on top of me, positioning herself with practised ease and sinking down onto my cock with a satisfied sigh. Both our bodies are slick with sweat although whether that’s a consequence of the sex or the sun, I can’t say for sure. All I know is Guinevere panting hard as she leans in to kiss me, pulling at my lower lip with her teeth, tongues jousting as her cunt grasps at my cock, squeezing my shaft harder and harder, almost teasing the orgasm from me. Her pussy is wetter.