Her hands have obscured the front triangle of some g-string panties but now their narrow side-strap is revealed, tracing a high arc across her hip.Ign...ring this minor disobedience for the moment, I reach for the pillow on the exam table and toss it to the floor in front of me. "Come here please," I say with a brief and tight-lipped smile. "Kneel down on this pillow so we may get started."I turn aside and open my equipment bag, not wanting my face to betray any doubt that she would follow such. Even if he somehow fell for me, every time he started to make love to me, he would think about all those men fucking me. No way could he stand that. Why did my father make a whore out of me? I hope that bastard rots in Hell.Tears washed from her eyes as her good mood evaporated. I'll never have a decent man. No good man would want to stick his cock where all those assholes have already put theirs. The tears continued.The phone jarred her awake just as she began to drift off. Groggy, worried,. ”“Fired, why? You work here and it’s your job to show people around the museum, fam!”“During the day, you git. Not late at night, drunk, and certainly not in here!”“Aaah ... it were all Artie’s fault anyway, wasn’t it? He’s the one whats pining over Gwen!”The others seemed to agree it was all my fault and, I suppose, it was true in a way. Gwen was Guinevere Alice Elizabeth Allen Windsor, properly Princess Guinevere. She was the fifth child of King Harry, the other four were sons, so the whole. “Well yes.” I said softly, forcing myself to avert my gaze from that ever increasing bulge. “Maybe I did over react a little. I am sorry for that. So you can go now. Please.”“Well mum said we should offer to maybe do some chores for you.” Mark said with a lewd grin on his face, “Like mow the lawn or trim the hedge.”“Err no that’s fine.” I said, letting my dress go and standing up, “I will see you out.”“Its not us you want to see out is it Gwen?” Mark said stepping forward, closing off my path.
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