Starved Beast

I tipped my head casually to the side as a gentleman does when he's standing before a lady, because the woman in the bright red dress was in front of me, frightened, covering her pretty little breasts with her arms. "Who's chasing you?" I growled, staring at her dress while wondering how best to remove it. I hesitated, and then I smiled, imagining it gone. "What have you done, my lady?" I drawled. "Have you broken the law or something? There must be a powerful reason for you to have fled here."

"I've done nothing!" she protested, blushing in sweet, girlish confusion because I was peering at her tits and apparently this wasn't good manners.

I reminded myself that I must be patient, and that while I wanted to undress her and study every inch of her flesh close-up, touch it and hump her, I mustn't be rude. Good manners are the foundation of a polite society and these manners shouldn't be ignored simply because a man is divorced from it.

Patience is a virtue.

I tried again.

"Why are you r