He returned to his desk to find a new stack of reports replacing the old. He angrily glanced over at Carmela, who shrugged apologetically. He’d only resumed working on the seemingly endless stack of files for a short time when Carmela approached his desk, manila folder in hand.“Could you please handle this file for me?” she asked, sweet smile on her face. He nodded absently, and as she walked away towards the isolated filing room, he actually thought he caught the unmistakable scent of pussy wafting his way. He shook his head, beating himself up for being such a sex fiend – until he opened the folder.Inside were a neatly folded pair of black lace panties. Leaning close, they shared the same scent that Carmela was putting out a few moments before.He noticed she wasn’t at her desk. He rearranged his rampaging penis and made his way to the filing room.She was waiting, bent over and legs unceremoniously spread, in the filing room. For some reason, the door had a dead-bolt lock and Mickey. He raced out into the still pouring rain praying that he would find his horse waiting for him. Soaked to the skin his linen shirt and doublet clinging to his body he found his horse cowering away from the ruin. He hoisted himself and his lady up onto the saddle. She seemed to have fallen back into unconsciousness but a quick check told him that she was still breathing. He needed to get as far away as possible from the castle. He spurred his horse into a gallop and made for the nearest inn. It would be too dangerous to try and make it to his own keep tonight. He came across the Craster Inn after a short ride. He strode into the small wooden building after sheltering his horse under one of the small shacks outside the inn and feeding him some oats from his saddlebag, the sleeping girl still huddled in the folds of his cloak. ‘And what I can be doing for thee young sir. ‘Tis a wild night to be out riding, especially with a lady!’ Said the knarled looking but friendly innkeeper as he.
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