“How old are you, Mrs Craddock?”The woman frowned. “Never ask a woman her age, Darren. Have you not learned that?”This made me feel very silly...indeed. I didn’t know why I’d asked anyway. It was obvious that she was about the same age as Mrs Hotter, late forties, some years older than my mother, who had given birth to me when she was quite young. “I’m sorry, Mrs Craddock,” I said, taking a new sip of wine to cover my embarrassment.“What do you do for a living?”This was an awkward one, another. She was not like any concubine or any other woman he had fucked or deflowered. It wasn’t because she was his daughter’s friend, he knew that. Having thought it over it was clear to him that along with her freely giving up her virginity to him, she was really sexually innocent at heart. Everything he did with her was novel to the girl. She had a love of bondage that pleased him but not a love of pain, which she openly admitted to him and this displeased him.Nonetheless, the Emir, in contrast to. More

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