As a writer, I’ve always thought that imagination is borne of experience, sometimes it’s our experience, sometimes it’s that of others. This is ...y experience, even if all the words and actions were not mine, and even if the names have been changed (which they most certainly have!). Chapter One: To set the scene My name is John and at 34 years of age, three long years after my first marriage had been declared over, I finally gave up on my so-called ‘life’ in London. I want to tell you about that. The seatedstudent kept sucking, slowly backing his face off the invading organ. Atlast it was out and he could breath properly. Lance patted him on the headand said, "Good little whore. Damn good." Then he stuffed himself back intohis shorts, closed his pants, retrieved his beer and finished it. He toldDonny, "You can't go back out looking like a freak, in guy clothes. I've gotsome stuff from another girl who was here. I kicked her out naked becauseshe wouldn't kiss my ass. Let's get. “Hi,” I murmur, slightly breathless to have this fine specimen of a man in my flat. “Come in” I gesture him inside and he glides through the door, pressing himself on me as he closes the door after him. “You look gorgeous Lana, I know it’s late but I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, as I blush and look at the floor, embarrassed. He lifts my chin so I’m looking in his piercing green eyes. My lips part in desire, as I look at his chiselled good looks. Without warning, he kisses my open. Today he had to take the CAP test which might well drive him from his family and his home and that same girl. Today society here called him an adult. Should he fake the test and end up a concubine for the rest of his life? That would allow him to remain with Staci and that was something he desperately wanted. But if he got caught he would be sentenced for 6 years of punishment detail and when he was finished she would probably have been sent on elsewhere without him.If he showed his true.