When the hikers were slow to undress she told me to take a knife from the picnic hamper and speed things up. Hans shed his lederhosen before he started to protest. Kim clipped him behind the ear which put him out long enough for me to fasten his hands behind his back to a broad leather belt and attach a rigid hobble to his ankles as directed by my sister-in-law. The restraints were part of an impressive array of hardware from the picnic basket which, I learned later, always accompanied Kim on her car journeys.Hans regained consciousness, and his voice, in time for me to finish undressing him with the knife. When he was naked Kim put her cannon back in its box and took the unfortunate young man by the foreskin - his prick had shrunk from fear - and told him he'd better shut up and do as he was told or she'd circumcise him.There was no need to threaten Greta with gun or knife. She was paralyzed with fright. Kim turned to me, smiled, and said sweetly, 'She's yours first, Sebastian - a. Marya smiled at me some more, then pushed herself away from the counter, walked over to me, and stood in front of me, looking up at me, that smile still on her face, her pretty brown eyes wide. ‘What do you think?’ she asked softly. I couldn’t move. I wanted to. Things were getting out of control, but my legs wouldn’t work. ‘Don’t I get a birthday kiss?’ Marya asked. Her tongue moved over her lips, moistening them. Her actions and voice were hypnotic. I knew I shouldn’t, but I bent to kiss her, watching that lovely face move closer and closer. Warmth radiated from her. Her breath teased my skin, thrilling me. When our lips touched and delightful electricity arced through my body. Her lips were so soft, so warm. It felt as if I was sinking into something wonderful. My beer can clattered to the linoleum floor. My hands, moving as if they had a life of their own, slid around her waist. ‘Ohhh!’ Marya giggled. I could feel her warm skin moving under my touch, ‘Your hands are cold!’ Her.
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