‘Don’t cry Christelle. I’m sure we can work it out,’ she consoled her. Christelle nestled into her shoulder and it Greg could see that the two...women clearly had also had feelings for each other. ‘You brought clothes with you to move in?’ asked Roxy, referring to her large carry all. Christelle nodded. ‘Well there’s only one solution,’ proffered Roxy. ‘I think you should move in.’ Greg was stunned. ‘I thought you were going to live with me?’ queried Greg. ‘I am. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.’. Simple. Nobody else would be awake for hours, so he had time to evaporate in some semblance of privacy.Complicated. As alone as he was in his physical space, he was not alone in his head space. His mind wandered to the events of the past day, and his mind wandered to the last face he had seen before retiring to his sofa for the night. It had not been anyone in his apartment - they had been asleep for some time when Alex made his way back home at midnight and crawled into his small space. He had. All were attractive, athletically-built young women, but each had a different look. His Kristin was dressed in low-cut jeans, with a short polo shirt, that didn’t quite reach her waist; her long blond hair was tied back into a ponytail. She was the typical girl next door, fresh-faced, with just a hint of her budding sexuality. Jenny was a relatively tall Asian-American, with dark hair and large brown eyes; she dressed in kakis and a cotton sweater, a very collegiate look. Rose, a dark-haired. I climbed off her and I stood up. "Bend over my desk, slavegirl." She had a little trouble getting up with her hands cuffed behind her, but she managed. She walked to the front of my desk. I always love watching her nude body move. There’s something magical about the curves of her body, and the line that runs from one to the next--from her chin down her long throat, her chest and finally her breasts. Then her ribs and flat, flat stomach flowing into the thin strip of pubic hair. The line of her.