He kissed the top of her head, gently, but his eyes were on Hope who gave a non-commital shrug."I'll be OK." She muttered, muffled by her scarf and hi... shirt."Anyone for tea?" Hope asked, doffing her own coat after a moment, and heading for the kitchen."Hmph-mm." Shawna confirmed, muttered against his chest, and he held up two fingers for Hope as she left."Where..." Marcus began, and felt her tense against him. "Um... did... should I just leave this?" Pushing away from his chest, gently, Shawna. Small breasts stand high on her magnificent form. Sylphlike hips balance a tan pair of shorts and a matching satin slip, handmade, with lacy appliqué fashioned specially for her by an expert modiste.I can’t take my eyes off her.I whisper, “I’m sorry about my nakedness.” The words sound strange as my vocal cords vibrate my thoughts audibly. With more confidence I add, “What I mean to say is that I didn’t expect visitors. I’m confused. I was on a battlefield. People were dying. Witches were. Who knows why their cocks are hard? Maybe they're gay. Maybe they're excited because they're fighting in front of women. There was just something strangely erotic about that mural - especially in a women-only sex fight club.That's when it occurred to me why I accepted this fight. The money was reason enough, but that wasn't the real reason. The real reason was that living on the wild side was too exciting to deny. My fear was escalating, but so was my arousal.We got to the ring and there was. No doubt, there were some specific images that would be burned into my mind for years to come, but I couldn't remember many of the details as clearly now. I couldn't quite recall the exact pitch of her voice as she'd been screaming in the next room.Then suddenly it was Friday night again. No plans for this weekend - certainly nothing like last weekend. Friday night just chilling out in front of the TV; a visit to Harriet's parents on Saturday; then a chilled-out Sunday (maybe a roast at a local.