It was partly an attempt to tickle me and partly an attempt to draw blood, I think. About all I could do was grab her breasts. Okay, I admit it. I had grabbed them just because. Anyway, I was making it sound like I was being terrorized. I think she knew better. She looked over at Harper.“He said he wanted to enpreginate you!”“What?”“Not right now,” I yelled. “Maybe later, but not right now!”“Really?” Her voice rose an octave.“It’s what all men want to do!” growled her mother. “They’re beasts! All of them are beasts!“I squeezed her soft breasts.“Grrrrrr,” I growled.I looked to see Harper’s backside in quick motion, headed somewhere away from us.“Uh oh,” I said.“What?” asked Hannah.“We might have scared her.”“What?” She looked around.“She took off running.”“Shit. Bob!”“Well you’re the one who told her I wanted to ... you know.”“I was joking!”“I’m not sure she realizes that,” I said.She left off “torturing” me and stood up.“I’d better go talk to her.”“Good idea.”She got up and left, but. "What shall we do with you now, young Brentt, since you're here, hmm?" Brentt said nothing, facing the tree he'd been stopped in front of, unable to move. Sarachan dropped his hand and drifted silently back towards the centre of the clearing, leaving Brentt to stand. His knees began to shake, very slightly. His breathing was a little more ragged now, his mouth dry. The sunlight was starting to go in earnest now; more than 5 yards into the forest and the darkness was impenetrable. Brentt almost collapsed when he felt a pair of hard, cold points on the side of his neck. He'd not heard Sarachan come close. The hands that found their way to his waist we soft but insistent, and they pulled his shirt from his trousers, tugging it over his head, nails scraping his skin just slightly. There was unmistakeable urgency in his actions, mirrored in the way that his teeth dug deeper into the skin of his neck, the tips just breaking the surface. Sweat rolled down Brentt's back in the cold air. Cool.
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