I ignored them and they did their best to ignore me but I could almost hear their thoughts as they threw disapproving glances at me."What's that fello... doing here? Look at his clothes. He's a disgrace."The person in the seat next to mine was a fat man reeking of expensive perfume. He sported a wispy moustache and a straggling goatee. He looked at me with his piggish eyes. He had a round face and an oily complexion. I could see that he was irked by my jeans, khaki shirt and the Nike Trainers on. Other buxom lasses, moving through the room, giggled as they were pulled into laps, their bodices coming open, heavy tits spilling into view. They were sucked on by hungry lips, their asses fondled, their skirts hiked.The buxom lasses, who gave the inn its name, were infamous for their friendly service. They were always ready to give a patron an extra treat. Each and every one had the appetites to be a Priestess of Slata. But they were earthier girls, not ones who wanted the cloistered life of. More

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