‘It’s one of the best that I know in the area.’ Rebecca was tongue-tied for small talk. She sought a way to gracefully cease conversation. ‘Ma... Iplay some music, Professor?’ ‘Of course, Rebecca,’ he answered. ‘I have mostly classical. You might try some Beethoven.’ She disdained the hauntingly restful strains and deep, passionate bass chords of the Master. ‘Have you any Bach?’ she asked. ‘Possibly,’ he replied, a little disappointed. ‘Look through them.’ She found one and started it up. She. His tongue slipped past her teeth and plunged gently in and out of her willing mouth. One minute teasing and gentle, the next rough and fierce.She thought that nothing could surpass this ... this liquid heat that was seeping through her, languidly, from head to feet. She had missed this; missed him with all her being. Only he could make her body purr like cook's fat tabby cat, Flourmill.Tearing his lips from hers, he seated himself on her stool and bunched her shift in one hand. Raising it to. More

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