There wasn’t much. He’d tossed almost everything. The Ten Year Service award, the Employee of the Month certificate from five years ago and such d...dn’t really hold any attachment for him. He kept the picture he’d cut out of a calendar years before, of a medieval street of craftsmen in Europe with three lines by Longfellow under the photo: ‘In the elder days of art, Builders wrought with greatest care, Each minute and unseen part.’ He almost trashed it. For years, it had been a sort of. It had been a couple of years since I graduated from that Private Girls School when I ran into my old Headmaster, Mr Weatherby, at the shopping mall. We stood there for a while chatting about the past when he made an odd comment saying that in all the time I went to school there he never had a reason to cane me. I blushed at the comment and replied that it was a good thing that he didn’t know everything that went on or he would have had good reason to cane me. He looked at me over his glasses. We entered the cave expecting to encounter at least one Erglet or Grampit, but we got all the way into the cave without that happening. Where was everybody? Was this a trap? I didn’t think so, but who could figure out what demons would do?We went deeper into the cave, but, strangely, we did not have any problem seeing where we were going. There were no obvious lights, so what was letting us see where we were going and what we were doing? A whispered conversation with Naomi had us falling back. "She stroked my rock hard rod, her lips just millimetres from more pleasure, "Is that a fact?" A promise," I confidently guaranteed.She gave me a mischievous smile, one that told me she was mine, and returned to worshipping her brother's cock. I needed to shoot my load soon and she clearly thought the same thing as she bopped on my cock quickly and with the same extra saliva thing that drove me wild. After a couple of minutes of this constant rhythm, I was close to spraying my seed down her.