But she ran on. Even though her cunt hurt and her ass felt like it might fall off, she ran and ran and ran.And ran into the arms of a tall, dark man w...lking out from one of the team offices."God in Heaven, what's this?" he exclaimed. "Do you always run around here mother naked?"The man held her at arm's length, his eyes raking over the lithesome form. He stared at the way her tits had been bruised. He reached out a surprisingly gentle hand and stroked one of her cones of titflesh, as if testing. By that time, I had made my way here to the Metéora, directly in the path of the march. In November of 1942, an American in the path of the Nazi Army was a dead American. I joined the local resistance.”Wesley was rapt. Had he been just a few years older, he might have been in this war himself, but he, too, was a theology student and intended to become a minister of music. By the time he changed his major to musicology, and his intent to become a college instructor, the war was over.“Look. He withdrew his fingers and wrapped his hands around my waist, giving me a devilish smile. “How about a bed this time?” he asked coyly. “Hmmm, how about you work for it this time?” I sneered and hopped up the flight of stairs, leaving him at the bottom, a wicked smile growing on his handsome face. He suddenly leapt up the stairs, causing me to squeal and race into an open bedroom, his athletic build close on my heels. I dove onto the bed as he rushed in the room behind me, locking it and. I shepherd you into my office and lock the door behind us. I ask to see your wet panties. You retrieve them from a plastic grocery bag and hand them to me. I bring them up to my face and inhale your scent. Should I call it a scent? Or an aroma? Or is it a bouquet? It is intoxicating whatever I call it, and then I run my tongue along the dampness and taste you for the first time. Second-hand taste, but satisfying, just like standing next to a smoker when you desperately need a puff on a.