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She was reasonably secure, where so many weren’t. It didn’t stop the nagging feeling that writing felt like a job now, rather than a welcome diver...ion. The bright sunlight and musical tinkling of her fairy-themed wind chime weren’t enough to lessen that feeling of drudgery.Nevertheless, she sat down, adjusted the chair so there was no glare on her screen, and started to write.Fifteen minutes and dozens of deleted lines later, she sat the tablet in her lap face down and dropped her head into her. A challenge was duly made for a tenner, more than I could stomach to lose back then but, hey, I reckoned I was fairly good at it so was quietly confident of making a few quid.Dale lived not too far from me so one evening I jumped on my bike and went round. He had the board laid out, offered me a glass of wine to sip on and we got playing. After a cagey start where we swapped a few pieces I got the upper hand taking a bishop without reply. The wine was tasting better already ! But Dale stuck at. He didn’t think she had noticed, but it was true.Except for the lessening breeze going through the fallen leaves not a sound was heard. Slumping down beside her James positioned his head onto her chest hearing her heart beat through the thin fabric. As his head nosed toward her tits her heartbeat began to race. He had succumbed to his inner cravings, even if he was her guardian, he would do her no harm so she allowed his advances.His mouth chewed at her covered nipples, when she didn’t balk he. He reached down and pulled one arm yanking on me as I wiggled out and up to my feet. He lead me in a quick step in a silence that I felt. It was a slap, a backhand really…shocking and unnecessary. We stopped and he lifted my hands above my head and as I always do, I touched him, his fingers and wrists, as he affixed me to something. I stood trying to imagine where I was in the building and put one foot out a little trying to gauge what may be in front of me, a wall, a shelf… nothing.. His.
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