He seemed bolder now, squeezing each cheek ever so slightly as his roaming hand moved back and forth. I had to admit it felt good, despite my alarm. I...caught myself stupidly wondering if he liked my ass, if he appreciated all the working out I did. Get a grip, I told myself. If he stopped now, there would be no harm done. It would be as if this never happened. Of course, he didn’t stop. His hand eventually paused right over my crack and I felt a finger, the middle one I guessed, probe carefully. He was dressed in a blue Italian suit, while Khozem wore a tan, cotton robe with matching turban.“I see you’re living like a Westerner,” smiled Khozem, trying hard to appear the man in control, not the child with a dumbfounded fascination.“I hope not to appear too Westernized, your holiness, but I just got off the plane,” said Vasilla sniffling with a cold.“And how was your flight? It must have taken a long time.”“Your holiness, the flight was good, and I am glad to be away from the unholy. More

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