And I know how much you are going to love every moment of this." he said quietly.She gave a token struggle, wriggling beneath him. A smirk of her own ...lay on her lips, for she could feel how his cock responded to her flesh sliding against the kilt, making the fabric rub against that sensitive member.She whispered into his ear, "Why don't you just rape me and get it over with? I know how much you want to Adama."She got a sudden bite to her neck for her trouble. "Not yet my wanton little wench,. Sir William Wentworth came to this country in the early eighteen hundreds, when California was still a part of Mexico. He was an Englishman of noble blood who married a Scottish woman and lived near the town of Glasgow. His wife died of something or other, leaving him with a young daughter to rear. He was a dour man who had no laughter in him and a young daughter who was as lively as spring rain, all sparkles and laughter. As the story goes, she was a bit of a wild one. Anyway she met a young. Momentarily she was aware of the risk she was taking and stiffened slightly, but relaxed, telling herself to just enjoy what she was experiencing. She nuzzled into the side of his neck, breathing his scent, and rubbed her breasts against his chest. He was only too willing to respond by caressing her back and sides, cupping the globes of her bottom.She sighed. "I'm afraid we're a bit of a mess..." Worth it, though," he responded. "The bedding will wash. So will we, for that matter. We could wash. I simply reacted. Translation? I slapped the hell out of Fergus, and the old white bozo stopped smirking, and pressed his hand against his reddening face. There was surprise and anger on his face. I looked at him with haughtiness and defiance, and then walked away. The last thing I needed was to waste any more time dealing with this creep, or the likes of him. That day, I walked off the work site, after telling my immediate supervisor, an old black dude named Farley, what Fergus had done. What.