They were just old enough to be called "men", all of them only a couple of years over their 18th fulfilled year of life.They are this years aspirants....With their swords ready to draw, they were all looking towards a small entry into the mountain-castle.As they were observing the passage, a faint sound echoed from within the darkness of the inner halls.A old looking man shrouded in a large cloak joined the stage.While some of the guardsmen on the walls were watching the spectacle the old man was. They would all kiss him, dance with him, and sort of hang all over him alone and as a group. If not for his uniform I would have said he was their pimp.There were two blondes, both hot and very sexy. They seemed to always be with him when in here. They always tended to him getting him drinks. They rarely kissed him upon his lips as they always seemed to kiss him on his cheek instead.He was was always a gentleman and very polite as well as a big tipper. I knew his name was Keith, he was 6’2”. "He was ushering Allison out when she suddenly said, "You do the accounts for Erica Wilkie, don't you?" If she had asked about any of his other clients, George would have thought nothing of it but the mention of Erica's name caused intense feelings of guilt. Blushing, he admitted that he did. "It's just that I wondered what her services were like. I wondered if I might find some therapy useful after all the trouble last year, with my husband leaving and everything." Oh," said George. "Well, I. She began to collapse on top of me, her legs buckling, her body spasming and shuddering. I saw this coming so was able to reach up with my hands to support her descent. I shifted her off gently but firmly to one side, so she was sitting at the top of the bed, leaning back against the headboard. Her breathing was still a little ragged and her hands were clasped tightly between her thighs, pressed against her pussy, still jerking and squirming as another intense orgasm flowed over her. She was.