" He then seemed to test me by being deliberately crude. "You know why we are here. I want to fuck the arse off you" and he patted my thigh as he drove out of the station.I decided to play slightly submissive and did not say "I hope you are good enough to fuck the arse off me" as I was thinking but instead said "whatever you fancy." He grinned at this and drove fast through the traffic. Eventually we came to a car park belonging to a block of flats near Regents Park and he grabbed a briefcase. He sat down heavily on a tree trunk, hoping that his head would clear sufficiently for him to make it back to the colonial style house. As the eldest son of the Plantation owners, he was treated with a deference and respect above his young age. At twenty-one, he had seen and experienced rather more than the average young man in the 1760's. To his credit, around half a dozen children could be blamed on him directly. Possibly twice that number might be carrying his genes, but these were. Duncan walked slowly, as if testing his own resolve, but didn't stop. He put his hands out in front, showing he wasn't carrying a weapon. I smiled encouragingly."I am sorry, Aedan, Alistair. I apologise for my actions. I was ... not myself. I am better now."They both relaxed, approaching and exchanging man-hugs. Duncan apologised over and over, making Aedan and Alistair both chuckle. Alistair came over to me, pressing a kiss to my forehead and putting his arm around my shoulders. Even over. He hoped to see her out on the floor just serving drinks in that lingerie she had been wearing outside but it seemed that wasn’t the case. He drew his attention back to his drink and waited for the blonde onstage to finish up her sensual dance and go home safely.*** Vixen stood backstage behind the heavy, royal blue curtain that separated her from the horny crowd of men who sat with erections in their pants, stinking of liquor and cigars. They watched with hungry eyes as Chloe’s fair skin.
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