Slowly rising and a quick dart to the bathroom to brush his teeth and a splash of water upon his face. Then slowly entering the day room in search for...the lovely lady that had filled his night with passion. Seeing her silently sitting on the back deck with her leg swaying slightly. Soaking up the beauty of the river at morn. The pelicans lined the shoreline giving her a picture perfect scene. They were basking in the morning sun and perched along the water’s edge. Like a blanket had been laid. The effect on the lad was sudden and instant, he leapt back from her thinking she was dead, horror coursing through his veins, as he panicked, but by then she was stiring herself, relief had him flopping back into a chair, no longer Sir Galahad, or Casanover but instantly just a frightened lad! She realised his fears, and his worries, and she would normally have thrown her arms round the frightened boy, but sadly her arms were tied behind her, but she sat up anyway and leaning forward to kiss. Water dripped off her lush mounds. My cock ached to taste her dark delights again. I had savored the first time fucking her. And today would be just as amazing.The wind swirled around me. The very air felt like a part of my body, like I had a hundred limbs all swirling around us, ready to strike. I flexed my real fingers in the middle of my tornado, took a deep breath, and struck.The wind howled as they rushed at Dr. Rita. Trees around the river groaned as my limbs swept through them and knifed. I kept trying to talk to the guards,but no one spoke my language. I was one miserable Khanith, that's forsure.Finally, after about a week, I had a captor who spoke broken English."Help me," I pled."You are khanith," he said. "You may die."Die? Me? For wearing a dress I didn't even want to wear?"You are CIA," he said. "CIA spies must die." I'm not CIA," I said. "I'm a photographer." You are spy," he said. "James Bond. You shoot pictures that the Sultanwould not want published." No," I said. "I.
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