Not in their styling, for men of different cities often wore clothes of varying cut, but in their color.They weren't the dark crimson of the Trader's ...uild, nor yet the bright yellow of the money lenders. They weren't priestly green, or even the dull brown of the common citizen, the farmer and herder, that Orzad wore. Instead, they were of many colors mingled together without rhyme or reason. The deep blue reserved only to those of royal blood, strange shades of yellow, brown, and green, even. "It's just like I imagined it," I said as we got into the spacious hotel room. "But how…" I started to say before Jeff pushed me against the wall. "Hi," I said, looking into his lust-filled eyes. "How many?" Jeff asked as he cupped my ass. "No idea what you mean," I teased as he pushed up my skirt and felt my bare ass. "How many of those perverted peons wanted my slut wife?" Jeff growled as he pushed my thong aside. His face buried into my neck as he lifted me off the ground. "I remember seven. More

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