?Down. Now.?Swallowing hard, Brittany looked over her shoulder at Mr. Hathaway. ?Mmmmph??A pair of cold, hard eyes met her imploring gaze. The fingers...around her neck tightened.?Walk down, or fall down.?Mewling into the tape, Brittany eyed the stairs and started down. Mr. Hathaway lingered in the doorway until the undersides of Brittany’s slippers scraped the concrete floor.She heard the door close, the lock slide into place, and a click. The basement went black. The footfalls of Mr. Hathaway’s. She and I had always made veiled references to sexual things for years. Now it was staring her in the face, so to speak.She took off her large straw hat and started unbuttoning her dress. Her breasts were beautiful and her cunt covered in the same blonde hair that was on her head. She lay her clothes on the bales of hay near the door.She walked slowly to me through the narrow passageway between the bales of hay."You know Peter, all the flirting we have done through the years...I was never. More

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