When he’d finished with me I was no more than a sniveling, sobbing ball of snot, he helped me to the bed, lay me down and said, “ Be a good girl n...xt time Baby Girl.”From the bed, in spite of my pain I could hear what transpired, Ryan was gentle, he took Annie’s hand and said, “Little Girl, go get some panties on.”She scampered from the room, she thought she’d gotten a reprieve, she had no idea, two things had happened, she’d gotten a nickname, Little Girl and he wanted her in panties, neither. She swatted me again, harder this time. 'It means "what an ass you have!".' Without Giselle listening, I dared to flirt. I leaned toward her. 'I could get addicted to that.' She smirked and swatted me again, much harder. 'That was lovely! Thanks.' She put on her hungry Cheshire cat grin. Just for a moment, I felt like a baby bird. At first glance, there was nothing special about the restaurant. The French provincial decor was tired and trite. Giselle dictated the seating at our square table,. Feeling that tender skin in the palm of his head caused an immediate rise in his briefs. Because of their tightness, it was straining against the cotton fabric. He was glad he was able to hide by bending over to clean the wet spots that had landed on Anns bed and pillow. Make sure you get all of it. I dont want to lay on your semen while Im sleepin. Ha ha. Im a poet and didnt know it. Very funny. Ha ha. He wasnt amused. Ann started getting the giggles and fell to her knees because she was. It was good to be home, and despite the war my sister prepared a wonderful breakfast for me. It was good to come back to some real Wiltshire bacon and eggs and a proper mug of tea, in a proper farm house kitchen. I was surprised, and delighted to see a couple of new faces at the breakfast table. The ministry of agriculture had allocated two quite attractive land girls to us. They were both London born and bred, and had never seen a real cow in their lives before they came to work at the.