‘Go back to bed, children,’ he said, waving at no less than three of his offspring. ‘We will keep it down now.’ ‘Who is that butterfly, Dad?...’ asked one. ‘Bed!’ ordered Valo in a voice that promised more than verbal reprimand if he wasn’t listened to, and the children withdrew. ‘Here,’ said the woman holding a rolled up sheet out to him, ‘the picture.’ ‘Thank you,’ said Valo, accepting it and getting his first clear look at the butterfly. She was a middle-aged woman, maybe a few years older than. However that dosen´t mean I cant have FUN!! I am in my late 60´s and very fit. Salt an pepper here with a little dash of grey, also you can tell that I have had a couple beers to many by belly. So if you are interested in an old geezer like me. Send me your email address, as I hardly ever come on this site often."Immediately I replied with my email address and within seconds I got an IM request from a Mr. Paul, in doubt, I accepted the request. To my very Great surprise it was my fantasy guy. All of the tension that she had held inside; the arrest, the agreement with Madame Carronade, the year of waiting, the fear of Simon, the sight of other slaves being used in the most brutal ways, she had held it all inside. This moment, the first moment with the master she had imagined as cruel and vicious, had all resolved in a moment of pleasure! Her time with Willow showed that it would not all be like this, but there would be moments of pleasure. There would be moments of personal. The experience would seduce her even further in the direction that Marilyn wanted. ‘I’ll be along shortly,’ she lied. ———- The drinks had continued to flow, almost with no end, and before long a half smoked joint was handed to Ella. Then another, before the first was even finished. All of it, mixed with the raw, pounding music. It poured through her veins, ramping up the arousal that was inhabiting the whole of feeling her body now. This was how things used to be when she was back in Brighton.