She bent over the edge, wagging her perfect pear-shaped ass at me. Her beautiful ass slimmed down to a tiny waist, then flared out again up into her s...oulders. Her hair flowed down her back and she wiggled at me again. I yanked her skirt up and roughly pulled aside her soaking thong exposing her smooth, shaved lips. I dropped trau and was about to slam it home when she reached back and put her hand over herself. “Oh no you don’t,” she said, reaching into her purse. She reached back and held out. Shall we go in?"The women enter the tunnel hand in hand."This is where we meet in the city. I am its current keeper," Claire explains. "But it is also a public space and on each quarter's moon must be purified to keep its sanctity. That is our rite tonight, sister, that is why you have been chosen and sent to me."They come to an elaborately cast bronze door. Claire ignores the blinking card reader on the wall and opens it with a large key. They pass in and go down the wide, blank-walled hall. ’ ‘Okay,’ she noted, continuing to scribble in her pad. My goodness, what awful handwriting doctors have, she thought as a mental aside. I just wrote this, and I can hardly even read it myself. ‘And…what’s your diet like?’ He shrugged again. ‘Uh…pretty normal, I guess. Nothing too out of the ordinary.’ ‘Mm-hm,’ said Angie, ‘Do you consume a lot of caffeine?’ ‘Not anymore,’ he answered honestly. ‘I started to cut down on it more and more, hoping it’d help me sleep, but it didn’t.’ She pursed her. Three of the “women” had been guys in drag hoping to fool Daryl. Zeke had spent the night under observation at the hospital. The next day, at lunch, the campus police showed up at our usual table. “Daryl Bowdain?” they asked. He raised his hand. “Brett Goldberg?” He put down his ham sandwich (non-practicing apparently) and raised his hand. The older cop told them to come with them. Daryl asked if they were under arrest. “Not yet.” Brett asked if he could bring someone with him. In response to.