She wanted to try to forget work and its responsibilities. She wanted to forget everything. She stayed at the bar long enough to get back on the right side of pissed off, but not so long that she got really drunk and went home with some strange guy. She didn't want or need the hassles that came with a "relationship" or the awkwardness of trying to ditch someone who may have looked good through the fog of liquor, but when the sun shone the next day, it turned out to be one of those. As soon as I did that she was sitting up on the bed going for the belt on my pants, unbuckling it and then headed for the zipper. She started to pull them down, which released my throbbing member right in front of her. She reached out for it with her hands when I pushed her back on the bed and resumed my assault on her breasts. She squirmed when I did this and tried to reach down for my dick but I wouldn't let her as I pulled both her hands over her head to prevent her from doing so. This. "You cannot stand there dripping on my carpet. Go into the kitchen and remove those wet things. I will bring you something to wear." She disappeared down the dark hall. Carl gratefully went into the kitchen, took off his coat and draped it over a chair. He removed his shoes, then hesitated. Someone, it had to be his hostess, tossed him a large, fluffy towel through the kitchen door. She laughed, "Go on! Get undressed! I will not look. Dry off!"Carl blushed, but disrobed and dried himself. Then. ”“Pirates treasure, aye.”When Vynn retired to her chambers, it was in a foul mood. The tech-priests had gone to the moon to do some estimations of damages and come back with the troubling report that the first volley might have lowered a single shield array, but not even scratched a double. Vynn threw herself into her large bed and kicked off her boots and lay there in her coat and her uniform and stewed. She glared at the ceiling, thinking through expenditures and practice and the crew’s.
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