“Where the hell is she?” he demanded as he played the bright light over the swamp grass again. The beam revealed nothing but the grasses, empty sp...ce, and the occasional wild animal that fled at their approach. They continued to move forward but were unable to see much in the dark.“Where the hell is she?” he grumbled again into the cell phone later just before he and Joe stepped into an unseen hole under the water, and sank up to the middle of their chests.“You should be very close to her by. Ahem. Is she - a friend? Oh! The one who wouldn't wait?"Hamish took the picture back and turned it over. "Emma," he said. "She's called Emma. Yes."Ian was concerned at Hamish's distraction. "The baby's pretty too." He wasn't good at sexing babies, but the one in the girl's lap looked no more ugly than any other. He guessed that made it female. Personally he preferred Husky puppies."It's a boy, called Michael." Hamish was looking at the back of the photograph where the name was written with a. ”“You could go blind.”“Mmm, worth the risk.”She’d inspired a thought. “Okay, I will if you will.”She smiled. “I was already planning on it. I couldn’t watch you do it and not; I’d die of arousal.”“That would be a very avoidable tragedy. So…?”“Stand up, come stand between my feet and face me, I’ll stay here.” She moved her feet about a yard apart and slid her right hand down to her pussy. Her left cupped her breast, tugging at the nipple. I stood between her feet as directed and took my cock in. There's a place pretty well on the way back to the car park which I've been to before which I reckon is jolly good." OK," she said sounding slightly reluctant and then with a brilliant smile, "Yes please."Christopher was thrilled."Now then," he said when they were seated and had given their order, "I've known you almost a fortnight and still don't know your surname." Hepton-Fotheringay-Norton," she replied straight-faced."Are you related to the Knapton-Fotheringays?" he asked equally.