I wanted it as close to the headland as possible, as one task a landing party could perform was coast-watcher. If we set up a lookout station on the h...eadland, whenever we came by they could tell us with a couple of flags what they had seen since our last visit.When I thought about it, that wasn’t really possible. The headland was a sort of rocky promontory. That was why we’d taken to calling it Rocky Point. Sure, a lookout post there would be easy to build and man, but supplying it would be a. I was giving her everything she wanted andnothing she didn’t want; she was giving me the worstcase of blue balls mankind had ever known. One warmsummer night, months after I had given her the firstmassage, I entered her room with an air ofdetermination.I put on Black Sabbath’s first album and turned off thelights while she undressed down to her panties and layon the bed on her stomach. I tied the blindfold aroundher head and regarded her body hungrily. She was wearingwhite cotton. "What are you?" I'm…I'm a whore, a useless cunt to be used." Tara opened her eyes and stared, her eyes were glazed over with need. She pulled hard on the covers as I worked my fingers around in her pussy. I could feel her muscles throbbing, squeezing me tight."Please, make me cum Master, please." I pulled my fingers from her snatch and climbed up on the bed, I thrust them in her mouth."Lick me clean slut!" Tara lapped away at my hand, sucking her own juices off my fingers. I cupped her breast. He quickened his pace and reached the restaurant entrance. He reached out and grasped the brass doorknob in front of him and felt oddly comforted by its cold, gentle smoothness, its normality. Swinging open a heavy wooden door he entered.In the foyer was a dark wooden podium with a reservation book open upon it. The walls were a dark, creamy color decorated with an 18th century portrait of Nell Gwynn, the famous courtesan who became the bedmate of King Charles ll during the English Restoration..