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”“Yes.”“Loucks isn’t a Russian name, is it?”“No. My dad is of Dutch ancestry. My mom is Russian.”“Mike, I need to get going or I’m...going to miss my bus,” Nancy said.“Shall I carry your books and walk you to the bus stop?” I asked.“Where DID you find this young man?” Mrs. Landers asked with a laugh. “And does he have a cousin or uncle about twenty years older?”“Come on,” Nancy urged. “Grab my books off the counter and I can show you off to the other girls in the neighborhood and make them. I sit down, every muscle in my face fighting a smile. Evan shakes his head and smiles at me, ‘Un-fucking-believable’. I can’t hide my smile anymore and put my beer to my lips to cover it. Oh yeah. He’ll show. I love being Anya Taylor. Meeting Anya Taylor They enthusiastically promised me three things: I would get drunk, I would get laid, and I wouldn’t have to pay for either. Yesterday my divorce was final. I expected I would feel some sense of relief that it was over. What I felt instead. In fact, I found it kind of amusing. You see, when I was in high school I was a real goth. I guess you could say that with my colouring I was a natural. Didn't even have to die my hair or wear white makeup. They used to call me 'the queen of darkness.'" She laughed again. "So ten years ago this place would have been ideal for me."Greg followed her into the bedroom. It was neat, although plain. She opened the closet. "I'll start getting things together," she said. "When I'm ready for some help. “My lady?”“Nothing,” she growled.He was silent and her musing returned to the delicious scene created in her mind. She closed her eyes to deny the beauty of the forest.I’m on the bed, bound and completely within his control. He’s pulling open my shirt and pawing my breasts. Now, he unlaces my corset and I can do nothing but watch. The restraint of my corset is gone and I’m exposed. He backs away from the bed and studies me and I flush red as his eyes wander and linger on my naked breasts. His.
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