“I think I’m….” I hiccupped loudly, “I think I’m a little drunk on your delicious German wine! And my name is Rach...el! Freulein sounds too formal!” My slurring was a little acted but I’d said enough.“OK Freul……. Miss Rachael, would you like me to escort you to your room?”I smiled the broad grin of a Brit that had drunk too much, linked his arm and whispered, “I think that’s an excellent idea, thank. She'll take care of you from now on.”“Take care of me?” Jalal spluttered, pushing up his glasses, his dark eyes so wide.Then Mom riped down his sheets, exposing his cock thrusting out of his boxer shorts. He only wore those. His shirt and jeans gone. He had a slim body with more muscles on it than I thought. Not Faizel or Dad's level of muscles, but he wasn't weak. And his dick...it looked so big, thrusting from his dark bush.Jalal covered his dick.“Don't do that, honey,” Mom said, pushing me. More

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