I escorted my princess to the front door of the club where a doorman in an identical uniform opened the door for us bowing as we entered. Immediately,... as we came in, we were met by a matre-de who greeted us with "Good evening Mister Thomas. Would you please introduce me to this absolutely lovely lady with you?" "Sir Reginald," I said "May I introduce her royal highness, Princess Catherine of the house of Wilson, my betrothed, soon to be elevated to queen of the house of Thomas." He was suitably. Each night he faced the emptiness of the bed and felt that pang of sadness, though it did not feel so acute any more. He still whispered, “Good night my love, I miss you!” to his Gwen, hoping that somehow she was somewhere listening.Each morning, after an undisturbed sleep all night, he would shower, shave and dress, then descend to find Celia ready to serve his breakfast at which she joined him. Sometimes she would have Bethan on her hip, and sometimes Evan would be playing if he had woken. "I could still go. You don't think they'd like me?" Jen..." I sighed, " ... It's like a make-out party, you know? You meet some guys, talk and kiss maybe, and just..." Make-out." Jen licked her lips. Everybody had heard of make-out parties, but they were more like a myth, I thought. Or else they were all make-out parties, since that's what people liked best, right? So the words meant nothing really, except I hoped they scared her a little. Jen had never been to one, I knew that, and I doubted. Kim's nipples harden quickly in my strong, skillful hands as they knead the soft flesh, squeezing her breasts and expertly pinching her nipples just hard enough that the pleasureful tingle of the sensation shoots up her spine. Kim finds herself responding to it by shoving some more of my cock into her mouth and bobbing her head up and down more passionately, eager to get some more of that tasty sperm to slide down her throat. She'd never have believed before this, even with all that had been.