Number one of course was there being wet and beginning to stick but also I’d gotten the idea on being alone with two men in my mind and my fantasies... were racing no matter how hard I tried to think of other things. My husband and I have a no holes barred sex life and for months he had tried to get me to do another man while he watched. The idea was interesting (though I didn’t really tell him I was interested) but we hadn’t found the right guy in the right place yet. Here I was in the middle of. . you just used the word 'slave.' And sure, it was in a sex MAGAZINE, and so sure, it was naturally assumed that sex would be an important part of it ... but I mean... 'slave.' Just 'slave.' That means so much MORE than sex. That means ... everything! And it took just about all the willpower I had to keep from just moaning and crumpling up into a little ball on the floor, just THINKING about it!"But then, it was time to go out for dinner, and so Rhonda hid the magazines again and we all went. The door opened. Probably a meal. There was no point trying to break out of this door. There were other doors between her and freedom. Many others. Every time she tried to escape, they took her deeper. ‘Brevila?’ She turned, not believing her ears. That voice! ‘Valo?’ she asked. The light from the tunnel’s brightglows behind him made him nothing but a large shade. ‘Is it her?’ asked an impatient voice, one she recognised as the termite guard that usually brought her meals. ‘Yes,’ said her. Flared hips, nice bust, and long locks always got my blood flowing. Lydia had a tendency to over do it a bit with her makeup, which was a bit of an annoyance, as a little war paint was fine for me, but one of my best attributes was my ability to kiss. Kissing a girl who has spent a lot of time getting her make up done just right is not really possible. The whole smearage thing. So with Lydia, through the nights during our dates, I had to satisfy myself with light pecks on her lips so as not to.