A woman pulled a curtain back and looked at him and said through the glass, “Who are you and how did you get into my garden?”He bowed and displayed the ‘fake’ medallion. Renita frowned and opened the door. She waved him in and pointed to a seat by the fire. “So who are you?” she asked as she sat in the large comfortable chair opposite him.A second cup appeared on the tea tray. She poured tea into it and refreshed her own cup. She indicated the honey and milk, and Mark nodded to both. Accepting the cup when handed to him, he sipped it and regarded Renita. “Thank you for graciously allowing me to talk to you. I need your help. For the point of conversation, I’d be happy to answer to the name, Mike.”She sat back and looked him over as she sipped her tea. “So, Mike, what matter so concerns you that you brave the Aracnzi’s burrow?”Mike chuckled softly. He had heard why Renita’s nickname was the Aracnzi. It was said that she saw all and her bite was far worse than her bark. He sighed. The kitchen was far from large and most of the space was taken up by a small dining table so a little closer meant he was almost breathing down my neck“Stew,” I said, keeping my answers short“Smells good, but you know, I have had a long hard day at work,” he crooned, I knew where this was going so it was no surprise when his hands cupped my arse through my skirt “I could use a little pick me up before dinner, understand slut?” his hand slipped up under the skirt and started squeezing.“Yes,” I understood alright and despite myself I could feel my pussy start to moisten. You see the other thing about me is that although I might resent being called one by bastards like Ian, I really was a slut. I loved sex and hated myself for liking his hand beneath my skirt, hated him too, hated my life but what can you do? “Good,” I could feel his leer, even though I wasn’t looking at him. In a sudden move he picked up my lithe body and bent me over the table. With one hand he flipped up my skirt so.
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