Smithers handed him a slim briefcase extracting from it a thick leather wallet, “There are £500 in this for you’re out of pocket expenses, Mr. Ramage,” he said before replacing the wallet back in the briefcase.“Thank you Mr. Smithers, you have been a great help. I’m afraid I’m a little out of my depth in these matters,” he said accepting the briefcase.“Not at all, my boy,” Mr. Smithers smiled, replying, “The Prince’s instructions were quite explicit concerning your welfare.”“But you haven’t had much time in which to organize all of this surely,” David replied.Mr. Smithers frowned, “I’ve known since Thursday of your arrival. One of his agents brought me word of what was required.”After Mr. Smithers’ departure, David sat considering the implications of the Prince’s disclosure of his pigeon communications system. A message capable of being carried securely by a pigeon would require some sort of abbreviated code he decided. He was developing a newfound respect for the Prince and wondered. Her climax is hard and quick, leaving her sweating and panting. Laughing to herself she decides that another shower is in order. Upon walking into the bath, she decides that she’d rather soak in the tub, after all she will be alone for a while, complete quiet and peace. Stepping in and filling the tub up with the hottest water she can stand, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and laughs harder. Her curls have gone mad leaving her looking like a demented Shirley Temple. Her smile deepens as she thinks of how he loves to run his hand through her hair and how he grabs onto them as he strokes his cock in and out of her mouth. Damn, she thinks, he is not even here and still he arouses me. Settling in the water the jets pulsate against her causing her to do nothing but relax and enjoy the sensation. Reaching for the washcloth, her breast dangles before one, the nipple tightening up quickly in response to the stimulus. Hmmm, she wonders. Splaying her legs open, the currents.
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