She wore a simple white sleeveless summer dress with a low but modest neck line. Her blonde hair was tied back into a pony tail. She accessorized with... matching gold and onyx hair clasp, ear rings, necklace and a loose fitting belt. On her feet she wore elegant gold sandals. She wore just enough makeup to suggest maybe she wasn’t and her perfume suggested she was a woman of class. Kerry was in stark contrast to my smart but casual appearance of CK jeans and open necked white shirt. I told her. Then she stood up and off me, letting my spent prick wilt with embarrassment. She dressed briskly, pulling on silky red knickers and a matching bra. I watched as if from a long distance as my premature cum began to ooze from her engorged slit before she pulled the panties over it and slipped into a fetching little black dress. She hadn’t, I noticed in humiliation, even broken a sweat from our session.I was about to ask, to beg again: she wasn’t really going to do this, was she? But before I. Why do you ask?”“Well, I mentioned to Linda that you stopped by the other day.” I said to her. “She was quite put out that she missed you. I’m sure she’d love it if you came over - we could make an evening out of it.”“What, like dinner with the family?” Emily said, her ardour lessening a tad. Whatever she had thought I was going for, that wasn’t it.“Nothing quite so formal.” I said, grinning wolfishly at her and choosing my words with care. “Kara is spending the night at a friends house. So you. 55am… Miss Darcy D’Haviland was not in a “nice” mood. She was not in a bad mood, but it was certainly not a “nice” mood. As she sped along the Oxfordshire country lane in her open top Audi, her platinum crop of short blonde hair blowing in the breeze and her aviator shades glinting gold in the early morning sun, a red mist had fallen over her, as it sometimes did. Her whole being was like a coiled spring; she was tense; she was a huntress searching out prey. A mile up the road at the.