There's been nothing awkway since… less, you count this place. A cabin, by a lake, in the hollow of a mountain, in a valley, I'm sure that no map ‘members… If one ever knew it at all." � He shifts and groans and fidgets� some more.� She grabs� the the kettle from the hearthstone, fills the little wooden bowl half way with the healing wash, retrieves the towel from the rail and pauses, for just a moment, to look out on the vale. � "If one knew this place was here, they'd be here," she thinks to herself,� "and this cabin, it’s old and lonesome, can� feel that. And this valley, it has way of it’s own, it feels live… crafty." Softly� and on tippy-toe, she breezes back to her stirring companion, sits� down, strengthens her back� and takes up the� task� she’s come to know so well. She is, essentially, alone in this place. With the exception of the wildlife, that scurries outside, her mind has few distractions to keep her from her charge. Sure, there's the bird, that comes, to eat the pickins, that she gives and the rabbit, that's taken to sitting on her lap when she sits by the short grass chewing straw, but their conversation, is somewhat lacking and they offer her brain, little more than innocent stimulation and joy. Her attention is set on mending the man, who's been wordless since he came to be within her care. He is the central point of her activity and the primary thing that keeps her moving through the day. She is dedicated, to easing his pain and getting his body healed and is thankful for the purpose and the task. � But, having him here is a triple edged mercy, one side good,� the other two, more than a little unkind. Though his presence offers her little time to think on her solitude, exotic it also grants her very little rest. And the body, though average, in almost every way, teases at her mind� and her intimacies. Especially, when the fire's light� tempts upon his skin, enhancing his form, wistfully, with it's hypnotic tempo and shadowy dance. She watches as her hand moves over a knee, up over his thigh, transfixed on the bare skin left glistening behind the japanese satin cloth’s path. She has memorized fucked every muscle and sinew, every bend, of his still listless form, every scar, every hair,� every bend. � Still, sometimes, she is taken by surprise.� Like when her hand touches a sensitive, pleasurable nerve and there's a certain throb, to a certain flesh or when he moans, the way he did just a short time ago. For quite a few days she's felt that too. The task complete, she splashes her face and fights off her desires,� finishes her meal, rises from her chair and crushes some berries and herbs,� anything, to distract from these unyielding yearnings. � She crosses the threshold and steps on the porch, removes her dress and just stands there,� feeling the air and the sun, or the moon, or both as is� tonight’s case, flow across japan her skin,� embracing her in their energies. She closes her eyes just to listen to the sounds of life, around her. The water babbles in the stream, steadying her thoughts, the birds gently sing their songs, giving her joy and the leaves rustle a calm into the air. Then that� stirring calls her back.� It always calls her back. � She grabs her frock and puts it back on nimbly, and listens again to the sound,� because she thinks she's mistaken or that maybe her ears are playing tricks,� but she thinks she hears a word this time.� It's been so long since she's heard a voice, other than her own,� that it takes a minute for her brain to translate it and even longer for her heart to register it as real. And there it is again. � 'Where?' She drifts across the floor, softly, takes his hand in hers and whispers,� as she kisses his forehead tenderly, "Shhhhh , It's okay, hush now, you're safe." and she strokes the back of her fingers from temple to chin, "Shhhhh, just rest, don't fret." "Shhh" and she, once again, starts to hum. � It's the same lilting lullaby she's used to both ease his mind and keep her own thoughts at bay. There's more color in the face, she notices, and his hazel-green eyes close and he eases away to a more comfortable sleep. � "Cheep! Cheep!" she hears from the cutout of a window. "Almost there," she hushes, to the bird on the window sill. His head cocks to one side in curiosity. "You'll see, he'll be up on his feet, feeding you seeds, in no time." "If they do such things where he's from." she wonders aloud. "So run along now and go play, I've still got some work to do here, Let’s� let him rest." There's a asian flurry and flutter as the bird takes flight, tweeting and chirping on his way to his nest. The wind from his wings cools on her neck, sending a tickle down her spine that makes her shiver and wiggle as she settles in the chair, once again, to embark on her nightly vigil. After enough kisses and fondling I finally got off and took her legs on my lap and took off her fucked heels and played with her payals while kissing her feet and sucking her fingers , all the time she just kept looking at me exotic with glazed eyes. He pulled her close and held her in his japanese arms. “I swear to God, if it’s because of-” Without needing to use a single word, she taught me exactly what she liked me to do. It was ok during the day, but it was always cold in the mornings. Mother had no idea her daughters feasted on her. Just tell me.” She was as described and the requisite very cute, too. She fell into sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, her mind and asian body exhausted. "So where do we go from here she said can we do this again ? I could really use a boy toy from time to time " she said ."I dont see why not I said" kissing her,"your even hotter than I imagined.Does that mean you have thought about us having sex?', she asked.Nodding my head and kissed her," yes I said many times".Tammy smiled running her hand down my chest, kissed me back.She then continued to move her hand down until she had my cock in her hand. This caused japan the razor to apply more pressure as Jack was shaving right above the clitoris.