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‘Hurry up panty boy and drop those drawers before someone comes looking for you.’ Her nipples were hard in the halter, her breathing deepened as with a sigh I resigned myself to unbuckling my belt and slowly dropped my trousers. The girl leaned across and hissed in my ear, ‘What the fuck are those? Casey said you’d be wearing my panties. What did you do with my panties you fucking pervert? God are you going to be in trouble when she finds out. Now get that fucking underwear off and hand them over.’ I can’t describe the humiliation I felt as I hooked the waistband with my thumb and lowered my briefs. ‘Nice.’ She got on her knees and took my cock in her hand, then her tongue brushed across the head, then her mouth engorged the entire shaft sending me weak in the knees. After three slurps and me on the edge of orgasm, she abruptly pulled away. ‘Get these on so I can get out of here,’ she thrust the panties in my hand, ‘and no sniffing them.’ As I shucked my shoes and ripped off. .. "Ike?" the voice called me again. Had I gone insane at last? Had the shrinks been right to worry about me?I turned slowly, rage rippling from me like heat waves from the floor of the desert at midday.She stood in the doorway, a white towel wrapped around her body, her hair dripping wet, her face worried and afraid."Izzy?" I croaked."Honey, what's wrong?" Izzy?" I jumped over the couch and swept her up in my arms, crushing her against me.I ran my hands over the wet towel, up over her bare shoulders to her wet hair and twisted my fingers in the damp strands.I released her from my crushing embrace and fell to my knees in front of her, my face against her chest, sobbing like a baby.Seeing her, smelling the fragrance of her skin and hair, the touch of her hands on my head... I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her close, listening to her heart beating. Such a simple, glorious, wonderful thing, the human heartbeat, so comforting and reassuring. I felt the rage retreat, its fires.
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A rather large amount of smoke poured from the chimney, and it didn’t smell of cooking fires. Across from the church was a large inn that was creatively named The Shrouded Hills Inn. The inn was nestled against the main road, which wound past a simple well, and across the road from the inn appeared to be the town bank and several shops, including a blacksmith, who was out working on some farming implement. Farther to the north, the town spread out into scattered buildings, including a rustic mansion that was situated near what appeared to be a mine that led deep into the foothills.“This is the place!” Virginia said. “Johanna is staying in the inn.”I nodded – then chuckled. “But first, I think we should say hello...” I looked at the man standing beside the well. He was an older looking gentleman, with a handlebar mustache that had gone quite gray, watery blue eyes, silvery hair, and a large constable’s star pinned to his breast. A rusted old revolver hung from his hip, and he looked.

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