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Ryan was filled with satisfaction that Denise chose her to be with to find the necessary distraction to save her sanity. Ryan knew they could not be together as often as they would both want, but knew their friendship would survive whatever life dealt to either of them. Within limitations Ryan loved her, and she loved her. Within some limits was an element of safety she needed, a constancy of a loving friend, the distance of commitment as she sorted out her life. Within those limits they shared a love and a passion few would ever find.Wrapped in Ryan's thick terry cloth robe she continued to sip the coffee as she waited for her to join her by the fire. They had made love for hours earlier in the afternoon with evening creeping up on them without notice. Ryan's shower had relaxed her to the point of giving in to the pull of the fire, and the coffee, to contented sleep. The warmth of the room hastened the effects of the coffee as her eyes closed, giving in to her contentment.She knelt. ”“Will you come with me, now?”“I’d love to; tell me about it.”“Well it’s a gambling club with a difference, all the croupiers and dealers are female and aged between eighteen and twenty one, they all work naked.”“Interesting,” I mused.“They have a female magician on tonight as well, she doesn’t appear until about two o’clock, I’d love to see her act.”“I bet she can’t do what I can do.”“Oh, and what’s that?”“I can make your cock disappear.”The Rendezvous was very discreet, no more than a small gold plaque on a wall, but a uniformed butler opened the door and asked if he could be of any assistance.Anton identified himself and introduced me as his guest.We were shown through into a small foyer where Anton was relieved of what seemed like rather a lot of ready cash.In return though, he was handed a large tray of chips, each with the number fifty on them.“£50 chips?” I queried and he nodded.“Yes, I like to gamble,” he laughed, “It makes me horny.”He handed me twenty of the chips and told.
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Upon closing the space, the messenger’s bent head tipped up only slightly, giving a hint of a familiar silhouette. Sir Glen’s well polished boots came to a halt feet from the guest in his hall. With a hand, he motioned for the messenger to follow him, pausing only long enough to whisper some instructions to a servant who had just come into the entryway. Once they were alone and beginning to ascend the stairs did Sir Glen remove the hood that had plastered to the messenger’s head, revealing a mass of matted hair and the searching eyes of Mr. Leif. Laurie was waiting for them at the top of the stairs, but before the last stair had been reached, she turned and ran down the hallway between Sir Glen’s private rooms and the novice hall. Leif paused almost wanting to shout at her not to leave on his account but it was the commanding voice that reminded Leif of his place in this conclave. ‘This way Mr. Leif.’ And Sir Glen led him to a room directly across from his own. With a wry smile, and.

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