The same things that never seemed to get sold were still there. There weren’t many new things. Arnold, the shopkeeper, was tidying up. ‘Morning, M.... Banks.’ he said. ‘Hello, Arnold.’ she said back in return. Jane was a woman in her fifties with brown eyes and brick-colored hair. She was starting to show signs of age, with wrinkles and a few grey hairs. People generally found her to be warm and friendly, but then again no one knew that much about her. She had moved when she had grown up. No one. He is forcing me, his wife, to serve his þrall as his þrall should serve me.Obediently I yield to him, my fingers beckoning between the þrall's parted lips, caressing her in the way all women love. Between my own two lips I take her knot of pleasure-flesh and caress it with my tongue. I lift my eyes across that smooth expanse of belly and see her leaning back on her arms, eyes closed, breath coming out in ragged gasps as the tension builds within her.Her fingers tighten, gripping my hair tight. More

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