Where was she? My heart ached, split in twain. Saoria was dead. Faoril was not.I rose as she clutched at my hand, trying to pull me back down.“Where...are you going?” she asked. “Don’t you want to lie with me? You just saved me. Let me thank you, Thrak.”Her sultry purr hardened my dick. Her hand caressed it. My kilt was gone and nothing stopped her from stroking me. Her grip felt exactly how I remembered. I groaned as she leaned over and sucked on the tip.Just how I remembered it.But memory was. I told mom not to feel bad and that she should try it again. Mom asked if I had any luck and I told her no not yet. A stream of men were hitting on mom for the next several hours and she had one she seemed to be into. Mom looked at me and I gave her the thumbs up and with that they both got up and walked away. After an hour mom came back and sat down. I smiled big but mom was not happy. She said that it was not what she was expecting. We got up and went back to our room to get ready for. ‘Close the door, please.’ ‘Oh, I am sorry. Yes, right away!’ ‘Thank you. Now let’s see this last report…’ For the second time John handed the paper sheets to her. Florence was leaning on her large desk. Her legs were crossed. She was wearing black stockings or maybe a pantyhose and a pair of conservative black high-heels. She took the report and threw a look at it. ‘Yes… Well it’s okay, like the rest of the reports. Once again I must say – Good job! Well done! I’ll need a general report but it. She tasted sweet and her kiss was gentle and soft. It almost seemed pure. Her grip moved from my wrists up my arms to my body. She untucked my t-shirt from the waistband of my skirt and pulled it up, only parting from my lips to allow the fabric to pass over my head. She tugged the sleeves from my hands, then my fingertips moved down her smooth back. Her skin rippled with goosebumps as my nails, that she had painted red not a day before, tucked beneath the elastic of her knickers. Suddenly.