Ser Waymar pressed a halting hand to his wound, which came away covered with red, red blood. The look on the Other's face was pure longing. It said something in a language that Will did not understand, but the tone was lusty. With a deliberate swing, the Other brought her sword down and Will watched Ser Waymar Royce lift his.When the blades touched, the steel broke in half, staggering Royce. The watchers moved forward together as one, pale hands ripping and tearing the armor and leather coverings from the knight. When the knight lay nude on the muddy snowy ground, the Other who defeated him dropped her blade to the ground, and pulled to the side the thin covering concealing her from the waist down. Beneath it was the cleft of a woman, almost like any other Will had ever seen, but pale and blue.Despite strong struggles from the knight, unyielding hands cold as ice held him to the ground as the Other straddled him, one knee to each side of his hips. Grasping his swollen manhood in her. If they went over, it was their choice by taking seconds. Once I served them and poured the wine, I could sit on the side between them. I was very careful to take serving sizes. Despite an increase in working out, my attention to my body drove a need to stay trim and firm. The other evening meal routine for home was our dress. Mr. Baldwin remained in his business suit until after dinner. Mrs. Baldwin changed into a dress while I finished with preparation before he returned. My dress? It was very specific and defined for me by Mrs. Baldwin. After serving them a drink after his arrival home, I would rush up to my room to change. Sometimes it would be a baby-doll, sometimes a floor-length negligee that gaped when I moved. Always it included thigh-high stockings and high heels. Sometimes, like this night, it was the thigh-high stockings, heels, and a shelf-bra that left my nipples exposed. Despite the occasional shelf-bras, panties and thongs were rarely included. They enjoyed fingering.
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