They had found a Hart tartan, though it was classified as Clan Urquhart. Nonetheless, Mrs. Weed sewed the skirt for Rebecca. Mid-August in Athens, how...ver, was scarcely the place to be wearing wool.She looked around as she descended the steps from the airplane, half expecting Wesley to be waiting for her. Or perhaps Ryan McGuire. Her visualizations on the airplane from Rome were mixed. She chanted a spell Mrs. Weed had taught her to put herself into a visualizing trance and settled in to focus. It gave anyone easy access to her pussy. Before she realized what she was doing, she had walked out the front door in search of a hunk. She yelped in shock and embarrassment at her shameless appearance, and dashed back in the house. She lay on the couch, fingering herself and pinching her nipples through the tight Lycra blouse. Ohhhhh, damnit, I can’t believe this, I’m so horny I can’t fucking stand it! ‘Who does that bitch think she is, treating me like this?’ She cried out to the empty. More

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