A gentle twilight breeze and rippling waves were there only company as the pair slipped into the dark.Holly only caught glimpses of Daphne’s smiling...features as they kissed. Headlights from the country road a kilometer away sliced back-and-forth across their bodies while Holly fumbled into her panties.“It’s hard again for you.” Holly murmured. She gripped the base of her exposed throbbing girth.“That’s good, Holly.” Daphne smiled. She buried her face into her date’s soft shoulder and breathed. ?"If you are not a slut, that's what its called mother, then what the hell is going on? "What didn't I know mom?" I realized my voice had come out a little harsh. "What 'pig'?"Her hands again hid her face as the crying turned to sobs and she waled out, "I did it all for you dear!"She spread her legs for me - that is absurd! Then maybe for this 'pig' guy then?I noticed the robe had parted a little I saw the flesh of her pale white legs to mid thigh - for some reason it bothered me. But why. “My goodness Raina, your husband is a lucky man.” The photographer complimented as he continued to click away with his camera. I blushed and replied with a quiet, “Thank you.” Then turned to sit on a cushioned bench, my legs having gone a bit weak at this handsome man’s smile. He pulled out another camera from his bag, placed it on a tripod and after fiddling with it a bit returned to snapping pictures with the first camera. A little closer than most of his other shots it seemed. “Is something. We shook hands and then she addressed a few pleasantries to me in Dutch to which I replied in kind to prove that I could speak it as well as I claimed. Mevrouw Rosamund looked less than her fifty-six years and I had the impression of nobility in her upbringing, but of course I did not like to ask.Five feet six inches in height, she was a slim woman of regal posture and well-cut features. She always wore her honey-gold hair piled up in permanent waves, the style being reminiscent of the.