“I had no idea so I suppose she’s been here since I went to Painswick.”“The damsel I’m supposed to rescue is in the custody of the Mayor. Sh...’s in the cellar?”“So they say,” said Timm.“Think we should find out?” I asked.The root cellar door was locked by looping a new rope through the the two handles and tied with a square knot ... ease of extraction and deposit.“I’ll fix that,” I said and hauled out my sword.“No!” said Timm. “Don’t cut it ... we might need a nice piece of good rope.”It was a. Neither felt greedy or lusty or perverted. Both felt normal. And how her hands lingered a bit longer than expected felt mutually acceptable and good. But she did slowly withdraw her hands. And it was clearly and obviously slow. Almost like slow motion. Almost like they were both processing the moment and not wanting the sensation to slip away too fast. But her fingers took a natural detour. To her mother's nipples. Not like a husband would do. Or like lesbians might do. But in a way that. More

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