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My dad got home first and I went into the den where he was reading the paper.“Dad, I want to spend the weekend with some friends in Galveston at the Bike rally, if that’s ok?”He looked pensively at me for maybe a full minute, then responded: “You are on birth control aren’t you?”“Yes Dad.”“I wish I was 16 again. Have fun and be safe.”I hugged and kissed him and nothing more was said. I guess he told Mom and she only said “have fun” as she left on Friday morning. As promised, the group arrived at my house about 9:00 to a roar that could be heard for miles. Eva came to the door and handed me a package. Inside was really nothing more than strings, but passed for a string bikini. She helped me put the ridiculous thing on and it just covered my nipples and most of my cunt. She then brought out a little packet that I recognized and we both helped ourselves to “a taste”. Eva was wearing what was left of the shorts that I had worn on my night of whoring with her beautiful ass and cunt. I wonder aloud where the knight is, and the innkeeper tilts his head.That old man? A knight?I gamble that no one here can catch the mental "scent" of Power at work, and allow a trickle to feed my eyes, sharpen my view even further.I don't know whether he saw the innkeeper's gesture, but he stands, staggering only a little, shoving the low table forward. He is taller than most in the room, but not as tall as me, but gods above he is wide. Those shoulders and arms belong on a blacksmith, not a knight; enormous bunched muscles clearly visible since the shirt he wears is sleeveless, buttons are missing in the front, undoubtedly from the strain put on it by his chest, and by the thick forest of blonde hair mixed with grey and white visible through the opening. The trousers are equally old and worn, faded, and despite the belly that has begun to hang over them, they are tight and display all that he has to offer. His offer is considerable.His face is stone, carved from the mountains of.
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