There was a frantic Australian game of ‘two up’ being played, a gambling game in which two coins are tossed in the air after bets have been placed...on the showing of two heads or two tails…the locals stood in a circle cheering loudly for the players. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, glittering as the light refracted off the crystals, the rich red Aubusson carpet springy under their feet as they strolled hand in hand through the cavernous casino, watching the faces of the punters as they either. I looked at Mistress Melanie for the first time. I had seen photos of her on her profile page where she offered her services of course, but pictures and real life are never the same. She was about 5 feet 4 inch tall compared to my 6 feet 2. And her curled hair looked auburn in the dim light. Her skin was pale in contrast to the black stockings and garter belt covering her not slim, yet not chunky legs. And her black thong showed off her shapely bum. Her profile said she was 32 but I guessed. “And there’s no tracks leading out. So that means he’s around here somewhere. Ah! Here’s where his feet crushed the grass.”Her bells at the ready, she crept after her brother’s footprints, following around the edge of the garden, leading off to the right. Doing her best to make use of cover and keeping to shadows, she searched for sign of her brother while keeping alert for the demon. The noise of the fountains was not loud, and she could hear larks singing in the trees, which meant that if. Why had she said that?Clooney's face went dark, like a perfect storm. he lept wolf-like from where he sat and before Taylor knew it, he'd mounted her, pinning her to the grass with all his weight. his hands were around her neck, choking, chocking, chocking all the air from her world. she couldn't speak, let alone apologize. now she'd never get to do it w/George Clooney.Taylor was in complete despair as her consciousness shrunk to a pinpoint... then all went black.then all was orange.Taylor.