Now let's change the subject a bit. Are there any more of the slavers that you remember that you think a sketch would help with?"Art shrugged. "Not re...lly, I did see a few other people that appeared to be something other than just lowlife muscle, but I have no idea what their function is in the organization." No matter. The sketches might still help either the General's or the FBI's investigation – maybe both. You never can tell. If you can remember enough about them, why not work with Hope to. “Richard, you’re always gone so long… I’m sorry.. I just…” She was pleading, but his stoney expression silenced her. There was nothing but the sound of the lawnmower next door as he knocked her, un-gently, to the floor. Inside his pants his cock was straining, harder than it had ever been before to see her sprawled like a rag-doll, her body limp and pliant and juicy from the orgasm she’d had. He unzipped himself, and his cock sprang free, thick and angry red. Delia’s eyes opened wider. Richard. I gave it to you because Anya said you needed to rest and clear your mind." So I did make an ass of myself?" Not as far as I am concerned, but you might think so when your memory returns."I reassessed how I felt and I had to admit that I felt perfectly fine physically. I wasn't tired or hung over. Except for the gap in my memory, I felt the best I had in weeks. I took a good look at her, she was naked and I was in her bed. I didn't know her, but I knew me."Did we have sex?" I wasn't. ‘Please don’t!’ I cried in a second or two of oral relief as the man pulled aside my blouse. When I glanced down I saw how my nipple was being rolled, pulled and pressed then saw a look of sheer depravity in the eyes of the man fondling me. Our eyes should not have met because then it was as though some evil hidden urges were exchanged and awoken. He leaned forward and kissed me, giving my breasts an extra hard squeeze — I let him put his tongue in my mouth and touch mine. The bearded man.