Our village neighbours brewed beer from barley, ours and theirs, and kept their own cattle and sheep. We should have to see if their animals could be ...mproved with mating with ours – or visa versa, but I doubted that somewhat. We had had a good wool spinning shed, but half of the spinning slaves had run away. I suspected most would be dead now. This was not a safe place to be an unknown traveller.Cheese, meat, bread: these were our main products. The tiles we made ourselves, but then the locals. Even jail time. But the pleasures I could have…“Ok, fine. But do NOT tell your parents.”“Oh, Pat, I would never do that.”So, after another long stare down, I told her if she wants to see it, she has to come over to me and take my pants down herself.So she walked willingly up to me. I was on the couch, sitting up, she was on her knees on the floor looking up at me. “If you want to see it, you have to unbutton my jeans,” I said.So, Chloe took her small, curious fingers, and moved them upward. More

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