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“Want to watch TV?” she asked. I rolled over to face her and kissed her. She moaned quietly as she grabbed the back of my head and kissed me deeply, throwing her slender leg around me and pulling me closer to her. Breaking our kiss I fell back onto the bed beside her as she took off her glasses and put them on the night stand- “I guess we’re not watching TV!” I thought.I lay beside her on my side, her on her back. I rubbed her stomach gently and began to move my hand up her chest to between her breasts, and slid my hand across her nipples, feeling them harden under my palm. She arched her back and started to breath heavily, and complained that her legs were sore. I gladly agreed to rub them for her, and massaged her calves and up to her thighs, letting my hands linger on her inner thighs, resting my hand on her shaved pussy lips. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to taste her clean pussy, I went down on her under the covers, using both hands to grope her breasts and tweak her. Scott stood and invited her to dance. She stepped into his arms and immediately knew she belonged here, fitting perfectly against him. They danced, circling the room in dreamy waltzing steps, stopping occasionally to enjoy the breathtaking sunset. Desi was so glad she had worn the peach dress. She felt beautiful and girlish and very desirable while being held in Scott’s arms. The pavilion filled while they danced, yet she felt like the center of attention, the belle of the ball. They danced deep into the night, swirling and twirling, laughing and talking. Desi couldn’t remember a nicer night, a better day. All too soon, the waiters started closing down, chairs on tables, candles blown out. Desi hated to leave, but being with Scott was what she wanted, so she took his hand and followed him out to the veranda for one last look at the sparkling ocean and one last dance. Driving home, in the dark intimacy of the car, Scott listened to Desi’s memories. He couldn’t believe how incredibly.
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She knew what Tobias was trying to do, as the crafty old fox had been trying to get her to be more sociable for many years. He had just stuck her in the role of hostess, and it was a role she was quite unsuited for. ‘I guess . . . uhm . . . this is the kitchen,’ she started, not quite sure how to go about this. Room by room, she showed Todd and Gail the entirety of the bottom floor of the spacious estate, including indoor pool, weight room, living room, den, two studies, dining room, entertainment room and home office. She gave a very detailed recitation of the statistics of the house, from square footage to style to history. Gail realized that Pat wasn’t bragging. She was acting as a tour guide, seemingly with no personal investment in the property. ‘What’s upstairs?’ ‘Oh, that’s the personal quarters,’ Pat said. ‘You mean your room?’ ‘I guess so,’ came Pat’s reply. There was a moment of awkward silence. ‘Would you like to see it? The upstairs I mean? It’s really not very.

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