An hour or so passed by and I remember nothing of those conversations. I just watched her. My body was betraying my feelings for her and I was struggl...ng to maintain any level of decorum. She had me entranced.She was so close now, I could hear her voice now, like audio Silk to my lustful mind. She was talking at the little bar table next to mine and I could tell her conversation was concluding. I was free, simply nursing a gin and tonic (everyone had given up attempting to talk to me I think). As I entered the room a woman stood up from behind a desk.“Welcome to the Sisterhood. I am Mother Anthea. How may I help you?”Her accent revealed Italian was not her native tongue, but I could not make a guess of her home country. She wore a cowl over her head, but from what I could see of her hair it was dark brown, as were her eyes. Her face was a lighter brown, not too far distant from the honey gold of Paloma, although I doubted the woman in front of me was an Oriental.Her garment was a. More

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