....well she is away for theweekend. Why don't we go out for a nice meal Saturday night.......andwhen we get back....."She left the sentence hanging b...t I knew exactly what she meantespecially as she rubbed my always hard cock through my jeans, it tookall my willpower not to soil my panties. I realised that I had to tellMistress Marcia because after nearly three months I was finally going toget to cum and hence empty my blue balls.. Not sure when to tell her Idecided to leave it until just. My firewood and seating had arrived. I flipped open the latch on the far garage door and opened it. We stacked the wood against the unused wall, furthest from the garage door. He dumped off the two big rounds of hardwood that he'd sawn free, handed me the bags of fat wood and I handed him my credit card. He made an impression, filled in the price and had me sign it. Painless. I liked that. He said, "Nice tats!" as he drove away. The sleeves of my robe had shifted up as I worked with the. Mark!... 'They would soon be done, and headed back toward home. The ice ball shrank to nothing even as he watched, and was gone.'... Rand?' Berniss's call came from within his own mind, relayed to him through Skryben. 'Please come inside. The conference will be in thirty minutes, and there are things we both must do... 'It was time to go back, anyway. His air supply would soon be getting low, and his training at the Academy had drilled into him the need to keep plenty of reserve air in his. It's not guilt. I just worked that out. I think it's shame; and that burns so much hotter than guilt. If it was just the incident at the kindergarten barbecue, then maybe it would be guilt. Maybe I could deal with that more easily. Heck, maybe I would have forgotten about it by now. Forgotten about her by now.It was the dream; that's what feels shameful ... even though it shouldn't. Nothing that feels that good should feel shameful. If only 'good' was all it felt; but it felt right, too.Shit,.