She was still jabbering on, as she untied my aching arms.She tutted away to herself, as I massaged my sore wrists. I looked about the room, all the gi...l’s gear had gone.The woman by the bed flicked a duster at my cock. Shit! it twitched. She undid my feet ties and helped me sit up.The bed smelled and was still quite wet. In my bad Spanish, I said, “las chicas, yo no.” (the girls, not me).“Ah, sí, entiendo,” (yes, I understand), she replied, looking at the ropes. She helped me stand, my ankles. ”--””--The frequent storm, the locals called the Yellow Wall had blown over, and with a routine established for many thousand years, the residents of Sandakaar shoveled and brushed yellow dust and sand. Windows and doorways were opened.And as always, a few usually newcomers that did not heed the warnings were caught in the storm and fell victim for the Yellow shapes, the shadows of something unspoken that dwelled within the billowing dust clouds.The proprietor and employees of the old Estresa. More

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