He was to be cleaned. The handmaiden undid the buttons of his filthy tunic. There were no words for him to say. These were women. He was powerless. St...nding in the first warm water he’d felt since summer in England, he submitted to the girls sponging until every last blot of war was wiped away, almost dizzy from her gentle patient touch. Toweled from head to toe, he stood as the girl held it before him, the strawberry haired Royal appraising him from her seat nearby. She stood and came to him.. At least I can dress the part.” And before I could reply, she said, “I take it you like my outfit.”“Yeah, very color-coordinated,” I said. “I particularly like your sweater.” And she cooed, “I’ll remember that.”My erection was returning, and I was adjusting my shorts when I saw the caddy master making his way toward the green. His eyes were fixed on Ms. Kent’s sweater as the Kents putted out. When they finished, he rushed up—to kiss a little ass, I figured. He said, “So how did it go?”Mr. Kent. More

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