Gently she traced her fingers across his shoulders, wondering at the scars that started at his hips or perhaps lower and covered his whole back. Peter...gently lowered his sarong and her hands traced even more scars across his buttocks. Someone had flogged him many times – unmercifully. There was not a single inch of flesh from his buttocks to his shoulders that was free of the lash scars. Standing proudly before her, he carefully refitted his sarong. ‘This is my Peter,’ were Jennifer’s first. "I'd love to. You have no idea how much I'd love to, in fact, but why don't we wait until we get to your place?" He stepped around the front of the car and opened the driver's door."This is your car? That's the joint!" He slid off the far side of the hood and climbed in the other side as Ed tried to make himself comfortable behind the wheel."Here, let me take care of that for you." Stephan said, pulling Ed's closer leg up onto the broad bench seat. Sliding over, the painter started working to. More

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