This is the Nineteenth Century. We do not believe in witches and demons. Patients such as yourself are not possessed. They are ill, and in many cases ...hey can be cured."The doctors departed, and Matron followed with the candle and Anne's clothes, bolting the door, leaving Anne alone in her cell, which was furnished with only a bed and a chamber pot. The mattress was straw in a bag of ticking, and it was covered by smelly woolen blankets. There was no fire to warm the place, and the winter. "Dude, you married a sexy black haired lady who is sexually adventurous. What did you think was gonna happen?" I questioned before I gradually went into the pool area. I spotted her in the hot tub. "How is the water?" "Not as hot as the memories we could make." I sighed as I got into the water with her. "Damn, that is hot with the bubbles," I muttered, sitting next to her. I brought my lips close to hers and she kissed me. "Thank you," I said before I wrapped my arms around her. We stayed close. “Nonsense.” she disputed, “I could never fuck you as good as Officer Jones did.” and walked away.She was watching everything. The guards might not have seen it on their monitors but she probably had it right there on her desk! I jumped up and grabbed the bars, “You saw it!” I yelled, straining to see her. “You let her rape me!”“Ridiculous.”” she called back, “You can’t rape the willing.” opening the door.“I’ll rape you then!” I threatened, not expecting a response.“You can’t rape the willing!”. Shortening the interchange for the sake of this account I was informed that they were in their mid-sixties, a less than helpful photo of his wife Kirstie was sent and so on the afternoon in question I found myself driving to their hotel with feeling mixing anticipation and apprehension – the latter as I had no desire to cause upset if there was no attraction.I was greeted in the car park of their hotel by my correspondent who was clearly well beyond his stated mid-sixties and a short.