Knowing she was a lightweight, Thomas had ordered her a long island ice tea (which contained more than enough alcohol yet tasted nothing like ice tea)...from a tall, dark haired, dark eyed bartender somewhere between walking away up from blackjack and luckless from slots. The gentleman was very friendly, striking up conversation with them about how their night was going. Thomas knew that drinks would lower Lynn's resistance when it came to her, for lack of better term, slutty thoughts. It was why. ”"Well, I was, I am but...”“Are you upset I came early? I’m sure glad I got to see you coming.”“John Hugh Davis, stop it!”He reached down and turned on her light. Her pretty red hair was tussled. He smiled at her, lovingly. Her cheeks were red from the activity. She appeared to be glowing from sex. In her rush to cover her bare chest, she had not quite covered her lady bits. Her pretty pussy was sticking out under the covers. He stared at it, unable to control himself. Yes, his mother was 50. Still holding her wrists above her head in my left hand, I hiked up her denim skirt with my right and pulled down her panties in a quick movement. With my right hand I teased her moistening womanhood. As her body started to shake, I stuck two fingers into her tight canal and pressed down on her G-spot. Her pussy was slick. Like Teflon on wet ice.The familiarity of her movements again brought back distant memories from the past. I could imagine her moans of pleasure but could not hear them over. Winslow. The Dragon is coming. And it's hungry."I shuffled toward the door. When I reached it, I put my hand on the bar and looked back. "You tell them, Mr. Winslow. You tell them The Dragon is coming. Ask them if it's coming for them. And while you're at it, ask yourself. Is it coming for you, too?"When I went back outside, the bundle of clothes had vanished. Somehow I doubted that some Good Samaritan had hurried off to return them to their owners.As I walked away from the store, I could feel.