"All our attention was on the tall, slim figure that emerged from the darkness into the lighted kitchen.It was his eyes that I noticed first. They wer...e incredibly like Angela's but not the same. There was a feral glint to his that Angela's lacked. His face was grave and unlined. He had short grey hair that showed just a hint of curls. It was cut high on his forehead, emphasising the regularity of his features. He reminded me a little of the English actor, Terence Stamp, even down to the cleft. Hey, hey, if not for that pass, we wouldn’t be on our way to the semis aight? Give yourself more fucking credit y’hear me?”“Aight aight,” I replied with a chuckle, “Hey, why I barely heard from you the last two weeks man? Tired of me whipping yo old ass one on one?”“Boy, you couldn’t whip me even if I was a hundred. Stick that cane out and leave you skating,” they both guffawed and clapped into a quick handshake again.“But for real though Coach. We ain’t done no one on one in weeks; I called. This had been ignored and as a result, Melanie went to bed that night with her bottom throbbing with pain. This had been off-set slightly as other parts of her were tingling with pleasure after Diane had dealt with her other needs. Melanie continued to daydream until she decided to check her emails. At the sight of the one at the top of the list she froze and knew that she was in trouble. It was from Paddle Cane Publishers and was from her editor, Ms. Suzanne Bryant. Melanie hesitated to open. He pressed his fingertips against her slit through the thin fabric, and nudged her clit in small circles. She was already getting wet. Her mannerisms changed as her pussy began to moisten with desire. Her body knew its master, and it obeyed. He watched as her eyes would close for a few seconds at a time, and he observed the rise and fall of her bosoms beneath her low-cut dress. She was beautiful. The glow of pleasure was all about her as she submitted to his public desires. The choir ceased.