The conversation now focusedon me. He told me how soft my skin was as his hand slid down my arm. Hecomplimented my hair, my eyes, and my smile while he undid the bottombutton of my blouse. He danced his fingertip on my nipple while asking mehow long I'd had my nipples pierced. His hand slowly grazed my flesh downmy chest and disappeared into my jeans. It was a tight fit, as my clithad grown and continued to harden as he caressed it. He liked that I wasuncut and told me how he loved to play with the foreskin. Finally, heuttered the words I longed to hear: "Would you like to go somewhere?"I could have screamed, "YES!" at the top of my lungs. Instead, I pickedup my purse and stood up, trying to conceal some of my enthusiasm (aswell as the bulge in my jeans). He offered me his arm and together wewalked out the door and into the winter night. Outside, light danced offthe large snowflakes that were gently falling. "I love the snow," Icommented absentmindedly. "Really..." he commented with. I didn’t even know we had a son.She smiled nervously when she saw me, our son in her arms. There was no denying that he was mine. The jet-black hair and darker skin color would have convinced me if I had any reason to doubt her word--which I didn’t. She apologized for not letting me know sooner. It wasn’t exactly something she wanted to tell me in a letter or message, and it was only recently that he was old enough to travel safely. Hearing that I had gone to Paris, she followed in a carriage, changing horses in every town and riding up to twenty hours a day to arrive before I left so she could tell me. That day I met David Unwen Whitehorse, my son.The only thing upsetting me was that she wanted to name our son as her heir. She was surprised when I asked why she didn’t name Alaric. She explained that she was worried Clovis might see naming Alaric as a threat. We talked to Clovis together and he had no problem accepting Alaric as her named heir. Alaric was happy when he heard. Even.
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