My work was a hit. I sold every piece, and word spread about my little gallery in the suburbs. Amanda also hooked me up with her friend who was a blog...er and wrote a column for a magazine. She published an article about Live Oaks and me.People swamped our little gallery. It was then that Amanda brought up her suggestion again and I decided to broach the topic with Larry. I waited until we’d had sex and he was well satiated to bring it up.“Larry,” I began hesitantly, “I’ve been struggling with. ..I need you to cover me, to make me yours and yours alone, again and again. I whimper out, "Please Master," Your shirt that I’m wearing falls open and you begin to suck and bite my breasts, causing me to cry out. Tears run out of my eyes, but they are not tears of fear. I know you know my past. I know that you know I was raped. I know my safe words still work in this situation, but I also know that you won’t hurt me…that’s your worst fear. Even though my body aches, the pleasure fogs my brain. So deep!! Oomph! God! Oh God! Fuck! That’s the way! Are you happy to be fucking Hermione? Are you? Call me a slut! A whore! I need to hear it!”That’s all Emma got to say, as an equally large black cock was jammed in her mouth! She could still hear and see though! And she heard, “Fuck that British pussy! Fuck the little slut! Make her swallow a big load of cum! Fuck her! What a whore! I can’t wait for my turn at that mouth of hers!”“Now my joyous friends! Now she will lose her anal cherry and. I think.”My education was diverse. The PhD was for publishing new discoveries in Central America. The Masters was for thoroughly understanding the Clovis period.I was on sabbatical in Ireland to record the legends. A busman’s holiday ... so to speak. I read a lot ... and remembered what I read. Never lost, I could find my way from here to there after looking at a map. A map with pictures? Even better. And I had read ... just the other day ... about a coin auction at Christie’s ... and none of.