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Her few curves were hidden by the armor. In a combat situation, her opponent would be oblivious to her gender. She completed her stretch and Otto stood at her side, rising with a deep grunt. He started walking toward the main hall of the palace, but she hesitated for a moment, lifting her eyes to one of the balcony’s facing the courtyard. A curtain moved as she turned and she smiled before taking a few quick steps to catch up with her friend. ‘The Father is back from Clermont,’ Otto said as they stepped inside. ‘He is coming to Breathwood for the evening meal. Cayden, as your friend and your lord, please dress as a lady in your position would. I don’t think the Father would approve if the daughter of Travor de Witte appeared in the great hall wearing my page’s trousers.’ ‘Of course, Otto.’ She reached up and kissed his cheek before walking away from him. Baron Otto von Streit watched her as she sprinted up the stone steps. She slowed at the top and allowed her hips to sway from one. They were like angel hair framing the entrance to her heavenly portal.The two mothers wore matching peignoirs. Their curves were partially visible through the sheer fabric. The young man, Richard, wore only white silk boxer shorts. The scene was the master bedroom of the Queen.The Queen led in a young man from the next room. He was perhaps early twenties, quite good looking in face and body, and also wore white silk boxers. She introduced him thus, “This is one of my paramours. Since sex is so important to our health, just as food and drink are, and my husband is often gone on extended travels, he provides for my sexual needs at those times. He will assist me in demonstrating sexual congress, usually referred to politely as intercourse, but also as coitus or copulation. Richard’s mother will explain what we are doing throughout the act.”Angels’ mother removed her garment and stood before them. Angel noticed that the front of both men’s shorts began projecting outward. The Queen then.
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Out of the corner of her eye she picked up the first flash of lightening in the distance through the open bedroom door. A visible shiver ran through Misty at the realization of how close she was to being caught in the bathtub by a fast moving thunderstorm. Misty’s fear of thunderstorms was a telling remnant of her troubled childhood. It was anything but rational, something that time and professional help had not been able to irradiate, the source of the fear still unknown yet haunting. Just as the accompanying thundered finally reached her she realized an unnatural sense of foreboding. The sense of well being created by the long soak was momentarily lost as she quickly moved to turn off the tub’s jets. She scolded herself for being a big baby, maybe it was because she was home alone. The ensuing quiet enveloped her as she placed a hand on either side of the tub and lifted herself up out of the water just as another streak of lightening lit up the bathroom this one so much closer..

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