"Bring them, and we will talk."Charissa returned to her seat at the table with the gauntlets in tow. The old man poured the tea and sat down across from her. Charisa took the cup and sipped. The tea, whatever it was made of, was surprisingly good. "So what can you tell me of my father's killer?" she finally asked. "It is not what I can tell you, but what you can tell yourself." He looked at Charissa as he took a rice cake and nibbled at it. "What do you mean?" Charissa suddenly felt strange. She started to panic at the thought the tea might be poisoned. The old man smiled, stood up, and held her down in her chair. Everything faded to black...Charissa woke suddenly. She stood there, watching a scene replay before her eyes. She watched helplessly as her father entered the house where he and she used to live. He closed the door behind him as a crash came through the window. The thing looked like a big bird to her at first, and then it transformed. She watched as her father turned and. . ummm ... I learned before I came to America.”“Good to know ... So, Ray and I won’t be able to do anything much until next weekend, are you free Saturday?”Lanying nodded again, “I ... umm ... am free, yes.”Cynthia purred as she swallowed the lightly-sweetened tea.Lanying’s week passed too slowly for her taste. Cynthia and Ray had been unusually absent during the usual evening hours, no sounds of pleasure or shows of flesh offered to her. It made her grow impatient to see them again, even to the point of watching their driveway just to get a glimpse of one or the other. She played with herself to orgasm Wednesday night while Ray did nothing more than retrieve the mail. By Friday night, she was dying for a fix, and with no sign of her playful neighbors, Lanying decided to take a walk like she used to do in her hometown, a chance opportunity hopefully offered her that night.The voyeur’s steps took her to the east and down the modest hill towards the main highway. Lanying turned onto a.
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