And even if she wasn’t answering. I drove back. Hopefully she’d be in the mood.I opened the garage door, and there was Amanda’s car. Thank Chris.... I drove in, closed the door again and went through to the kitchen, carefully avoiding looking out onto the patio. Amanda. Where was she? Not in the dining room. Not in the loo, or the utility.Upstairs? In the bedroom all ready waiting for me? I rushed up. Head round the door ... not there. “Amanda,” I called. No answer. The second bedroom? No. Third?. The person who had done this to me was lying in beside me her body covered in a fine sheen of perspiration and fast asleep.I realise what had woken me was a sound from the bedroom door, looking over to the door I saw two girls, about 14 and 16, both were looking intently at the scene in front of them.I could not say anything to them as my mouth was gagged and all I could say was a muffled grunt.How did I get here? I remember the bar, the good looking, blonde haired temptress and the question. More

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