This funeral home was so far beyond the funeralhome that his Uncle Phil owned. He stopped to admire the structure.The building was dripping with arc...hitectural features on its grandfacade. Mansard roofs, columns of various types, thick and richadornment around each window and door. It was also tall and massive.Four stories and two large wings at each end. It was incredible.Jeffrey thought it was bigger and more grandiose than even the WhiteHouse.The town car slowly passed beautiful fountain. They put their heads round the door of the front room again, but were met by a wave of hot sweaty air and noise, coming from by a group of happy drunken people all trying to dance and shout incoherently at each other at the same time. “I need to sit down” shouted Penny in Richard’s ear. “It’s too noisy in there to think. Where’s the room with the telly?”As usual, Ron and the guys had dragged most of the chairs and the big sofa into the second, smaller reception room to make room for dancing in. Trust his writer’s imagination to immediately conjure some horror-story style ideas about crazy female stalkers with ruthless plans. Lilah was probably just a wannabe-dominatrix that had been screwed over by a few boyfriends and was out to make men quake and submit to her threats in a bid to feel powerful again. Clearly she had taken out her frustrations on him because of the way he favored writing about scheming male players corrupting naive girls and turning them into raging sluts. He had. The same happened with the rings in her nipples. God, she felt more and more aroused, and she wanted so bad touch herself until she got to cum, but the sheikh's words stopped her. She didn’t want to openly defy him. By night fall, the sheikh returned. Again he was wearing a dark red robe. He approached her and took her by the hand as he led her through the bathroom into the other room. She was astonished. She had seen rooms like this one before, in websites and in the BDSM club her boss had.