‘Yes, Sir.’ Said Anya, and leaned forwards to kiss Rachel’s stocking clad feet, kissing her feet over and over—an act of worship which left Ra...hel bewildered. I pointed at the sofa where Rachel had been sitting, ‘Sit down,’ I said. Rachel moved without hesitation and sat on the sofa. Anya crawled over to where Rachel was sitting and continued her kissing. ‘Anya, help Rachel remove her stockings.’ ‘Yes, sir.’ Anya gently reached up to Rachel’s stocking tops and pulled them down over her legs,. Did he first plunge into her on the Hill of Tara, soft breezes brushing over them as they looked into each other’s eyes? Did she pull him inside her in the Temple of Astarte, hot desert wind caressing them on the cool stone floor? Did they flow into each other not once, but thousands of times in thousands of places in thousands of configurations only to be separated by time and distance and circumstance? Have they been caught by jealous others before in passionate embrace? Punished for their. More

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