He leaned down, his mouth falling over her right nipple. She groaned her head tilting back as his tongue flicked her sensitive nub. He moved over to h...r left nipple, her body shuddering. “Oh, Ian…” She moaned softly, her fingers gliding into his hair, holding him on her nipple. He sucked gently and gradually sucked harder. “Ian please… Please.” She wanted an orgasm, she needed one. She was right on the brink of it just from him sucking on her breasts.Ian slid his hand into her panties, stoking. I mourned for quite a long back then. Subsequently, I never have too much of an emotional involvement in any of my relationships.I am extremely particular of my personal hygiene. I ensure that I am always clean. I take time out particularly for personal grooming.I wax myself twice a week atleast so that there is not a single strand of hair or a stubble where it does not need to be. I call myself relevantly fashionable and ensure that all my attires are perfect and extremely good looking.I am. James Horton did ask me about my strange accent. I told him that I was from Leominster, Massachusetts, and I was here to do some historical research for a book I planned to write about the war with the Comanches. They were all suitably impressed by my fib, and I learned some more about the history of what happened when Whites first moved into this territory. Hell, maybe I would write that book after all.I spent so much time with the Hortons that it was getting toward supper time. I tried to. Madame Mindy’s high heels clicked behind me on the stone floor. My cuffs were hurting more and more. I came to a locked steel door on the right. A sign stenciled on the door read 'Cells 1 - 10' and ‘this door must remain locked at all times’.‘Stop'. She unlocked the door with a large, complex brass key, and swung the door back to reveal a short stone room, with a flight of spiral stone steps in the center, leading downwards.'Go inside, prisoner. Then wait for me to help you down the steps,.