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" I stepped back and automatically took her coat from her as she removed it. I held it as she shut the door behind us; the noise of the wind was muted...once more. The silence was deafening - such a cliché - but it was; eventually I noticed the small sounds: the tick of a clock, the crackle of the fire; and all the time all I could think was, 'She's here, she's really here.'"Hang up the coat and let's get out of this hallway and into the sitting room. If that's a fire I can hear I will. ”Marshal and Marjorie both gasped. Marjorie asked, “Does this mean that she is his slave?”Joe laughed, partially because he got the response he wanted.Aimee was listening to what he said and watched his actions very close.Joe smiled and said, “No, nothing like that. It is more a symbolism than anything else. Actually, Aimee has chosen to give herself to Mr. Winslow to do or use as he wishes.”Marjorie said, “That sounds like slavery to me.”Joe continued, “Maybe so, but slavery is forced. Tell him I love him."She had always liked my brother. I heard a small sob as she hung up.I went back in the room and just sat quietly, watching him and remembering good times.He woke slowly, looking around."Damn, I thought you were a vulture there for a minute. What the hell are you doing here this late? Go home. Be with your family."I smiled."They're all asleep. I was running late."I looked at my watch. Twenty minutes until Christmas."It's almost Christmas, thought I'd hang around with you,. Lastly, Joyce sat on a king-sized bed nervously waiting. Her mind was spinning from the pot and from the idea of being kissed again by a strange man. Her feelings vacillated between excitement and guilt. She still could almost feel Bart's lips and cock pressing against her. Fantasies of secret, illicit kisses sent chills through her, but then she felt guilty for enjoying the thoughts so much. Soon unwanted images of young men with giant cocks began to fill her head. She tried to force herself.
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