It seemed that the only times Emma ever came back to the flat was when Charlotte was out – perhaps spending the night at Josephine’s or still at w...ork. Whatever it was, though, Charlotte knew she wasn’t part of it, and she was sure that Emma wasn’t even paying her enough attention to be bothered to intentionally avoid her. Nevertheless, Charlotte was a faithful lover and nothing that Emma could or couldn’t do would shake her love for her flatmate. Perhaps, she hoped, when Harriett returns from. I felt the smoothness of her silky panties too. Then I hooked a thumb into both sides of her hips and tried to push them down but I couldn’t. Vivian stepped back, hooked her thumbs in them, and said, “I like them tight Daddy. Don’t you?” I was only able to nod as she lowered her jeans to her knees and then pushed them down further until she could get them off her feet. Once again Vivian stood up so that I could admire her in just her panties. They were silk, they were pink, and I had smelled. I drew in the intoxicating scent of her crotch as I looked at the wonder of her femininity.“You’re a beautiful woman,” I said.“In what way?” she replied. “A woman’s parts are not pretty.”“I didn’t say pretty,” I said. “You’re beautiful. Your crotch is a beautiful piece of human engineering, your pubes are like soft grass in a lovely garden. Your labia…”“Shit. You’re a poet? And a Latin scholar?”“Your pussy lips are as cute as… well, they can’t be described. And the scent of you is better than. The man dressed as a Brother of the true word was a huge man. He too was able to hide his bulk of muscle under the long flowing brown robes which also served to hide his two swords. They were the long heavy one that he used with both hands equally well and the short blade with the sharp edge on both sides. He named them Nora and Good-night in memory of his long dead spouse who had been trampled by a troop of dragoons unwilling to slow down for common folk. He often repeated their names as he.