She took her second mouthful of water and then obediently corked the pouch and, rising, returned it to its hook on the saddle of the Andalusian. ‘I�...�m rested now,’ she said, bowing her head as she spoke. The Moor was not listening but instead observing the horizon, quietly and thoughtfully. In a moment, he turned and looked at her, she was a pretty young girl, her long dark hair in a tangle, her clothes tattered to the point of immodesty, and had he been of a mind to do so, he would have wanted. And so it is with this story. It is based entirely on one phrase written to me via a text message by member of www.xhamster.com. To protect this person’s identity I will not divulge the actual statement used, but it is in this story. If you are the one that wrote the words you will know, and trust me, my mind was on you the entire time I was writing my fantasy.40th Class ReunionThe ice in my scotch would have made a tinkling sound on the side of the glass if it weren’t for the music playing. More

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