My auburn curls are shoulder length and my green eyes are sparkling with both a****listic hunger and coy shyness. I head to my favorite club wondering...what the night will bring. Sitting at the bar I’m listening to the music and scanning the room. All over there are couples grinding their bodies to the beat. My body begins to move slightly to the music and can feel the pressure building inside of me. I need a man. Scanning the room again I see him. He is wearing a cobalt blue button down which. What he did though was to spread the word, bragging that his servant was the best bagpipe performer in the school. That led to me being farmed-out or traded for other juniors. I soon became known as a musical maestro or virtuoso, giving concerts sometimes three or four times nightly. I did tell my senior after a few days that I was a little disappointed not getting satisfaction myself. Because of my busy schedule, he had brought another student in to do his menial chores and he gave me. As it was, I don’t even remember our first meeting, or our second or our third…after that however, I do vaguely recall someone with a very dodgy haircut and a gingery goatee, walking past me in the corridor carrying some boxes. I remember being aware that he was the bloke I’d be working with next term, but really nothing else. I can’t even remember speaking to him, or if I made any contact other than a brief perfunctory smile. Certainly, there were no thunderbolts, flashes of lightning or even. "I can't believe how hot this is!" she said. "Pat, will you...will you eat me again like you did last night? Please?" "Yeah, of course," he said almost without thinking. He had always been a considerate lover. He had treated Mallory with respect and tenderness. Why had she chosen to leave him for that guitar playing idiot? Well, fuck her! The small woman rose up and threw a chubby leg over his face before squatting onto his mouth. She was dripping wet already, and she settled onto his lips.
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