More importantly I had no bag or phone either.I couldn't even remember what day it was. Was I supposed to be at work? What time was it? Where was my stuff?I slowly emerged from the room into the long corridor I had walked down with Emma last night. The high Georgian widows lit it beautifully. It must have been 60 foot long with 8 large windows. The dark oak floors have way to white walls, pocked with erotic artwork of the female form.I hadn't taken any of this in last night. I felt tiny in here. My messy dark hair flowing over my slightly tanned body was almost my only covering save for my lingerie. My small 5'4" figure made its way along the direction I assume we came from. The house was still quiet and I still felt like I was in a daze.I passed three large doors that were closed and headed to the open one at the end. I heard the sound of a piano as I approached. Gentle, melodic. It drew me in. As I entered though I was greeted by a sight I had not expected.It was a large drawing. " His attempt at humour failed with her scowl. "Your boots. Riggers' boots are always scarred white with phenolic resin."Aldyth grunted - pretty smart, for a man - swallowed her drink in one go, then smacked her lips as she looked about the room. "Right, let's talk prices."She could feel his eyes on her. "Let's talk action. I don't do rough stuff, understand? You have to take good care of me, lover." Yeah, yeah, sure." She readily agreed, not willing (at least tonight) to tussle with some burly lovenest doorwomen out to protect their studs. "I've got a wide-on that won't quit. I'm just looking for a bit of oral, then a straight fuck. Maybe some more afterwards, if you're good enough." I'm good, very good. " He paused. "120."Aldyth snorted. "Fuck off! If you're so good, why weren't you busy when I arrived?" Then she noticed the compbooks on a shelf, schematics of power transfer conduits - she recognised them immediately, snatching one book, turning and sneering at him, her latent Welsh.
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