Penelope still lay on the bed and she pushed her high heels into thecoverlet, arching her back so she could shuck out of her skirt, trying tokeep it a...ay from the mess in her panties. She was partially successfulbut did get a silvery trail of semen on the lining.She tossed her skirt on the floor and sat up to remove her jacket andblouse."I told you it would have been a lot easier if you just let me undress,"she said, gingerly sliding her cum-soaked panties down her legs.She threw them at. . you mustn't talk to me like that. You can't say such things! I... I'll call the police... I..."The mention of the police made Morgan snarl, and Fran instantly regretted having brought up the subject. "Oh, come off it, Fran! All the police in the world won't help you now. Because I'm going to do something I bet you've wanted me to do for a long while! I'm gonna fuck you silly. Fuck you like that brother of mine probably never has! My cock's bigger than his, anyway. You'll dig that!" Oh,. Mother had made all the necessary preparations for our time on the island and early next morning we were on our way to Cape Jarvis and the ferry that would take us across to Penneshaw. From there we drove west on a bitumen road until we turned off on to a dirt road. A few kilometres along this road we came to a gate. I opened it and mother drove through, and then we were lurching along a rough track for about fifteen minutes until we reached the house. Our arrival seemed to be a bit of an. The coven continued to stand behind her in a semicircle which reached from edge of cliff to edge of cliff around her. Twelve voices chanted loudly in ancient Gaelic, but even together their singing could barely be heard above the roar of the sea. The gigantic windstorm would soon crash ashore in all its fury. In the pacific they would have called it a cyclone, in the Americas, a hurricane, but here it was called a windstorm.The weather forecasters had named this particular windstorm Frea, with.