“Upstairs,” I said, looking her squarely in the eyes. “You mean it’s OK for me to keep borrowing your vibrator.” “No, no, no. You misunderstand ...e. Actually, I was thinking of letting you borrow something else……” I let the statement hang for a moment. I could tell from her eyes that she wasn’t catching my meaning—that I was offering to let that tight little pussy of hers fuck Jeff from time to time. It had been a fantasy of mine for the last couple years, to see him fuck a really young, tight. What did that mean?I thought back — back to those years following my departure from England, and the new insights I had gleaned as I rejoined society. ~ooOoo~The early 1900’s…I had become severely depressed. My life, such as it was, had become meaningless. I was tired of England and its dark, repressive ways. My chance meeting with Bram had, for some reason, lit the tiniest of flames within me and, restless now, I nurtured this minute flicker. I wanted to move on; I needed to find. More

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