
Standard Disclaimer:  This is a work of erotic fiction.
It is intended for Adults Only, so if you're 
not--then go away.  It is not intended for sale, but if 
you'd like to pass it around, feel free.  Just keep the 
text and header as is and all will be well.  Enjoy!


Bountiful Plantation: Part V of VI


    Carrying her gown carefully by the hook on the 
garment bag, Cynthia climbed up the winding back stairs 
of her home like someone who was a great deal older than 
eighteen.  Moving slowly was the only way she knew to 
reduce the effects of the digging cloth on her poor, 
abused pussy.  The fabric had worked its way deep into 
her vulva, and was also pressed directly onto her 
terribly erect clitoris.  Even moving slowly, she found 
she could only walk a short distance before having to 
stop and try to regain control of her body.  The drive 
home had quickly become a nightmare for her, but this 
time she knew she had no-one to blame for her 
difficulties but herself.  She could still feel the 
desperate need for an orgasm screaming inside of her that 
her drive home somehow induced.
  
   "I must get these jeans off!" she thought frantically.  
What was she thinking?  If she didn't take them off very, 
very soon, she knew for certain that she would embarrass 
herself once again!

   She continued to climb very slowly up the narrow 
stairs, but she knew she was near the end of her 
endurance.  Each step she took caused her pussy to 
positively throb.  Cynthia held her breath, went up 
another step, and her vagina exploded!

   She collapsed on the stairs, careful to keep her new 
gown above her as she did so.  She lay helpless on her 
back as she watched with gasping horror the small wet 
spot on the crotch of her jeans which marked the deep 
cleft of her sex.  The spot started to grow larger and 
larger as her vagina pulsed out the lubricating fluids.

   "Oh, wonderful!" she thought bitterly as she gritted 
her teeth to keep from crying out.  "I just creamed my 
jeans!"


   A young woman wearing a caterer's standard uniform of 
white shirt and tight black slacks, came bounding up the 
stairs and stopped dead at the sight of the teenager 
lying there.

   "Are you hurt?" the pert blonde asked in a lilting 
English accent.

   Terribly embarrassed at being caught like this, 
Cynthia could only shake her head and mumble, 

   "Wet myself."

   The woman placed her button nose directly over 
Cynthia's wet crotch and sniffed delicately, once.  
Apparently satisfied at the result, she reached under the 
girl's top and unfastened Cynthia's jeans, and began 
pulling them off the stricken girl.

   Still shaken by the effects of her powerful orgasm, 
Cynthia could only moan, 

   "Yes!  Oh, yes!" when she realized that the English 
girl meant to rescue her from her traitorous clothing.

   For some reason this seemed to inspire the young woman 
to even greater efforts as she now labored frantically to 
pull Cynthia's very tight jeans off of her hips.

   It was obviously a mighty struggle for her, but 
finally, the small blonde woman had the clinging jeans 
down past Cynthia's thighs.  Soon she had them piled, 
along with the girl's shoes and socks, on a lower 
landing.  Cynthia felt herself returning to normal after 
the effects of her latest devastating orgasm and breathed 
a deep sigh of relief.  She was free at last of those 
terrible jeans!

   She was preparing to thank her rescuer when she saw 
the woman move her legs apart and sit right between her 
opened thighs.  
   
   "Now what?" the unsuspecting teenager thought, then 
gasped with horror as the woman placed her mouth directly 
onto her vulva.

   "Oh, my God!  No!  You can't!  Stop!  You can't do 
that!" 
 
   Still holding her gown, the struggling girl tried to 
go backwards up the stairs, but the woman held on to the 
teenager's naked hips with fierce tenacity.  Her mouth 
proved, in Cynthia's rapidly growing experience of such 
things, to be very educated indeed.

   Soon, the insatiable mouth clamped on her pussy 
drained the already exhausted Cynthia of any strength to 
resist her attacker.  Naked from the waist down, Cynthia 
could only lay helpless on the stairs while she was being 
eaten out by a complete stranger, and one of the caterers 
at that!  Oh, the shame, the shame.

   Cynthia, to her disgust, climaxed mightily and her 
female seducer eagerly lapped the dazed teenager's 
pulsing vaginal fluids.  After expertly licking the 
panting girl dry, the caterer hopped over Cynthia's legs 
and started up the stairs.

   "Hey, wait," Cynthia weakly called up the stairs.  
"You can't..."

   "Sorry, love.  No time to make a proper job of it. 
Never you mind, eh?  We'll do it right tomorrow night.  
Ta!"  Then she was gone!

   The flabbergasted Cynthia couldn't believe it.  She 
had wanted to violently protest this awful violation of 
her person by this total stranger, and instead only 
managed to make a date with her for the party.

     "It's just not fair!" the half-naked girl wailed as 
she stood up and tiredly started climbing up the stairs 
again.  

   She almost reached the top when she realized she had 
forgotten all her things on the stairs below.  By the 
time she had gone back down, retrieved her clothes and 
started back up the stairs, Cynthia had worked herself 
into a full self-pitying cry.  When the sobbing girl 
reached the second floor, she shielded herself as best 
she could and fled to the safety of her room.


   The day of the party had finally arrived and the large 
house was in state of carefully controlled turmoil.

   Cynthia knew that this was THE party, as far as her 
parents were concerned.  It was an annual affair, given 
by Cynthia's father for all of his favorite clients: 
past, present and future.  It was completely catered, 
with a formal dinner served in a large pavilion set up 
out back, dancing, several temporary bars, and even 
fireworks.  There were always two bands, one out on the 
back lawn for the sedate dancers, and one down in the 
basement recreation area for the younger set.  The party 
was something that most people did not miss willingly.

   Cynthia would have paid a good deal of money to have 
been anywhere else today.  After what she had gone 
through this weekend, after all of the humiliations and 
abuses she had endured, all she wanted to do for the 
entire day was to stay in bed.

   But Cynthia was now an official part of today's 
events, and staying in bed was out of the question.  At 
least that's what her mother kept telling her as she 
threw the still-sleeping teenager out of bed at the 
ungodly hour of 10 o'clock in the morning.  

   As Cynthia grew older, she reluctantly found herself 
becoming more and more involved with her mother's hostess 
duties, especially anything concerning the younger set.  
She had already been informed she was to be part of the 
"official reception committee", which was just her 
mother's way of saying Cynthia was to be one of the 
greeters at the front door.  She was also to be seated at 
one of the big tables this time, which was were the 
really important clients were always located.
   
   Cynthia had felt rather badly after being woken like 
that, yet she knew it was the best thing that could have 
happened to her.  By being thrown into the party 
preparations, she'd had no time at all to brood over the 
astonishing events of the past two days.  Not a 
contemplative person even at the best of times, Cynthia 
brushed aside all that had happened to her and focused on 
the needs of the party.  More specifically, she 
concentrated on the impression she was going to make on 
everyone tonight.  It would, she was sure, truly be a 
night to remember!


   Well, it was party time and she was almost ready.  She 
was standing nude in her bathroom, bathed, shaved, 
powdered, and with her face on.  She was sweetly perfumed 
in all the right places.  Earlier in the day she had 
completed all the important things: gotten her hair and 
nails done, received a pedicure, and bought a new pair of 
shoes with (of course) a matching hand bag.  Her normal 
routine of also buying new underwear for a special event 
didn't apply this time, as she (Oh God!) wasn't going to 
be wearing any.  She was to spend the entire evening 
wearing the slinkiest gown she had ever seen, with her 
shoes, and that was all!  She had been getting goose 
pimples all day just thinking about it!

   Except for her small crotch protector, that is.  At 
least she would have that on.

   She stared at her nude reflection one last time, then 
shrugged her shoulders.  She sat down on her bathroom 
chair and picked up the kit Mickey had given her 
yesterday.  She carefully applied the supplied adhesive 
around the edges of the protector, then gingerly placed 
the small object directly onto her vulva, being careful 
to avoid her recently trimmed pubic hair as much as 
possible.  It fit perfectly.

   Looking at the small half-shell, Cynthia felt 
decidedly foolish wearing it, yet she had to have 
something!

   She stood up and looked in the mirror.  The shell 
completely covered her vulva.  "Well, I'll be protected 
down there at least," she thought.  "But, God!  It feels 
just like someone has their hand right on me!" She 
wiggled her hips experimentally and the protector 
remained in place.  "How weird!" she said to her 
reflection.

   Finally satisfied that all was well, she took the gown 
out of its protective bag and slowly inserted her trim, 
athletic body into the form-fitting garment.  When the 
gown was on her, she set the shoulder and neck straps, 
then zipped up the back.  She stepped into her new shoes, 
a pair of wicked-looking high-heels.  Finally, Cynthia 
put on her most discreet but still very expensive diamond 
earring-and-pendant set.  With this gown, no other 
jewelry would be necessary. 
 
   Now that she was complete, she carefully checked 
herself one last time.

   "Wow," she reverently whispered.  "Wow."

   She was elegant!  She felt herself absolutely glowing 
with untouchable sex.  The effect took her breath away.  
It was like a fairy tale come true.  She really was the 
pristine Virgin Princess at the Royal Ball.

   Intoxicated with her own beauty, Cynthia floated out 
of her room and down the corridor to the main stair case.  

   She stood alone on the landing and waited a moment to 
compose herself.  She knew her gown deserved only the 
most perfect of entrances.  If she ever decided to wear 
it out in town, she'd probably require an armed guard to 
keep the guys away, but in her own home with a house full 
of guests, she knew she was perfectly safe.
  
   Cynthia was just about to start down the stairs when 
she jumped!  She had just felt someone caress her silk-
covered buttocks!

   She whirled around and found herself face to face with 
the short catering girl from yesterday!

   "Oh God!  It's you!" she sputtered, not knowing what 
to do next in her embarrassment at meeting someone who 
had so recently taken such intimate advantage of her.

   "Happy to see you again, too!" the girl beamed, her 
hands on Cynthia's waist.  "Too busy for anything now, 
love.  Just wanted you to know you look absolutely 
smashing!  If you need to see me later, ask anyone for 
Penelope.  I'll be working the bars.  Ta!"

   "OH!" the startled Cynthia gasped as Penelope, rising 
on her toes, kissed her full on the lips, while at the 
same time sneakily tweaking the unsuspecting teenager's 
vulnerable nipples through the thin silk. 

   Before Cynthia had a chance to protest, Penelope had 
quickly vanished down the stair case leading to the 
kitchen.

   The terribly flustered girl could only stand there, 
dumbfounded.  She looked wildly around the corridor to 
see if anyone had seen what had just taken place.  
Relieved, she saw that she was still completely alone.

   Cynthia took a deep breath and once again tried to 
compose herself, but without success.  She looked down 
and saw with horror that the nipples on her high-set 
breasts, now obviously very erect, were clearly visible 
through the silk.

   "Oh, no!"  she thought.  "Now what am I supposed to 
do?"  She knew that she just had to go down now.  She 
could not stall any longer and expect to live through the 
night without her parents killing her.  She was probably 
in serious trouble already.

   Well, she would just have to keep her arms crossed 
over her chest, that's all, until her naughty nipples 
shrank to a more respectable size.

   She hurried on down the steps, not concerned with 
making an entrance anymore.  At the bottom of the stairs, 
Cynthia entered the madhouse of the front foyer.  There 
were people packed everywhere, with caterers weaving 
their way through the crowd of new-comers carrying silver 
trays loaded with drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

   Her mother, standing by the open front double doors, 
caught her eye during a gap in the crowd and curtly 
motioned for her daughter to join her.

   Cynthia took her place alongside that of her mother, 
and automatically started to greet the new arrivals.

   "What the fuck are you wearing?" her mother whispered 
bitterly into her ear during a brief lull between 
arrivals.

   "It's a gown, Mom.  An evening gown."

   "No shit.  No wonder you wouldn't let me see what you 
were wearing tonight.  That dress is a bit much even for 
you, don't you think?"

   "It's just a gown, Mom.  It's no big deal.  Really."

   "Sure.  Just remember that when your father has his 
stroke tonight."

   "Mom!"

   "Well, too late now.  Since you're finally here, take 
over while I check on the caterers."

   Cynthia stood alone at the door, the official greeter 
for the party's incoming hordes of people.

   The reactions her gown drew from just about everyone 
astonished the teenager.  She saw some pretty slinky 
outfits walk through the door, but she could honestly 
feel that her appearance topped them all.  Cynthia began 
to feel that she truly was the Belle of the Ball!

   In her first twenty minutes at the door, she received 
eight proposals of marriage, fifteen requests to meet 
with someone in one of the upstairs bedrooms later on in 
the evening, and one discrete offer to spend two weeks at 
a villa in Maui.

   Her plan to keep her chest covered quickly fell apart 
with the need to continuously welcome people to her home. 

   Everyone wanted to shake her by the hand, sometimes 
joyously enough to cause her breasts to really shake and 
shimmy under her bodice.  Of course, all that movement 
just caused her nipples to grow still harder and even 
more erect than before.

   At seven, with relief, Cynthia closed and locked the 
double doors.  Her father's one firm rule for the party 
was that no guest be admitted to the house after that 
time.  This evening, she hadn't had a single person come 
in for over fifteen minutes before she had to lock the 
doors.
   
   When guests were supposed to leave was another matter.  
She knew overnighters were encouraged, especially if 
great distances and/or alcohol were involved.  These 
affairs could continue throughout the night, lasting as 
long as the participants desired.  Parties until dawn 
were not uncommon.

   Cynthia worked her way through the large crowd, 
playing the proper hostess, making a point to have a 
brief word with every group or even individuals who were 
standing alone.
  
   As it turned out, wherever she went, large crowds 
seemed to appear as if from nowhere.

   Regardless of how few people a room might contain, 
after Cynthia's arrival a crowd would always form and 
gather around her.  Strangely, she had the oddest 
impression the people seemed intent on getting as close 
to her as possible, much closer then she had ever 
experienced at a party before.  She could feel them 
physically pressing against her through the thin silk of 
her gown.  She tried not to jump whenever a hand passed 
over her buttocks or grazed her breasts, but each 
happened a great deal as she made her rounds.  It was not 
really surprising to the innocent teenager, what with the 
heavy crowds and all.
   
   It was having an effect on her, though.  After a 
while, such unintentional contact started to take her 
breath away.  She could feel the heaviness begin to build 
in her vagina, a sure sign her darned secretions were 
starting to flow again.  She could only pray that the 
little protector would work as advertised and keep her 
from embarrassing herself and, more importantly, keep her 
from ruining her gown.

    As the evening progressed, Cynthia found herself 
receiving all kinds of offers to dance.  She tried to 
politely limit them as much as possible to only the slow 
dances.  She was becoming concerned of what too much 
perspiration would do to her beautiful gown.

   On the dance floor, she noticed that her partner's 
hand would inevitably stray from her waist, to an even 
much lower position down her hip, lower then even she 
would consider proper.  At first, she couldn't comprehend 
what they were doing, then it struck her.  They were 
feeling for her missing panties!
   
    She gave up dancing altogether after that.


    Finally, to Cynthia's relief, dinner was announced by 
caterers carrying small brass gongs.  She knew that she 
would be sitting at a table which was thankfully on the 
opposite side of the pavilion from her father's.  Her 
spot on the twenty-person table would be right between 
the Farland sisters, two sweet spinsters who, in their 
late 80's, were her father's oldest clients.

   Cynthia headed for her table in the pavilion, happy in 
the knowledge that she would be spending a peaceful hour 
or two away from the groping masses and be in the company 
of some of those few clients of her father's that she 
actually liked.

   She needed some quiet time anyway, she knew.  She 
hadn't counted on how demonstrative everyone became 
around her because she was wearing the gown tonight.  
Just wearing the gown made her feel sexy, but after being 
unintentionally groped and fondled by the crowd all 
evening, she was feeling positively creamy inside, as 
well as being quite breathless.

   It was getting so bad she decided that, after dinner, 
she was going to sneak back upstairs and change her 
clothes for something, anything else.  She felt even one 
of her comfortable bathing suits would probably be better 
for then the gown.  At least that way she would possess 
the equivalent protection of having on panties and a bra!
   

   She was seated in her designated spot at the table, 
happily chatting to Ruth and Ester Farland, when Cynthia 
noticed her neighbor Kathryn, wearing a grim smile, take 
an empty seat directly opposite the table from her.

   "Uh-oh," thought Cynthia in dismay.  "She's really 
pissed at me about something."
  
   She had forgotten all about Kathryn after leaving her 
at Bountiful Plantation yesterday.

   "Whatever happened  there wasn't my fault," she 
thought.  "I just went to pick up my gown, that's all."  
The fact that Cynthia didn't warn Kathryn of her own 
unusual experiences with the staff when she was there the 
day before, sat uneasily on her conscience.

   "It wasn't my fault," Cynthia said aloud.

   "What, dear?" asked Ester.

   "Nothing.  Sorry," apologized Cynthia.

   Cynthia suddenly began to feel the faintest of tingles 
coming from her crotch, but it went away as quickly as it 
had begun.  Probably vibration from someone walking 
behind her, she thought, and promptly forgot about it.
   

   As the dinner began to be served, Cynthia was mildly 
surprised that the strange feelings kept returning, and 
each time they lasted just a bit longer than before.
  
   She was so busy playing hostess and companion to the 
Farland sisters that it was some time before she realized 
the sensations between her legs were becoming quite a 
distraction.  The vibrations, centered on her vulva, were 
continuous now, and were getting stronger.

   She finally realized what was happening to her. "Oh, 
my God!" she said unknowingly.  It was her protector!  It 
was vibrating!!

   Her vagina was throbbing like crazy and she tightly 
crossed her legs to try and stifle the growing 
sensations.

   "Oh my!" she thought desperately.  Maybe it was full 
or something, and this was the alarm.  She didn't 
remember Mickey saying anything about emptying the 
protector, but, dazzled by the gown, she hadn't really 
been paying any attention to her at the time.

   Regardless of the reason, though, the protector's 
vibrations were causing her some serious trouble.  
Cynthia could only keep what she hoped was an interested, 
calm look on her face as she fought to keep her body 
under control. 

   "Please, God!  Not here, not now!" she prayed 
reverently as the throbbings of her vagina started to 
reach overwhelming proportions.

   She knew her face was flush and that beads of sweat 
were forming along her hairline.  She was having trouble 
catching her breath.  Her crossed legs were dancing under 
the table in her increasing nervousness.

   Cynthia was helpless.  Everyone was just starting 
their main course.  If she got up from the table now, 
everyone, including her parents, in the pavilion would 
see her!  But if she stayed...!

   Ruth reached with her right hand across the girl's 
chest to hand her sister a hankie.  A heavy, ornate ring 
on her forefinger caught both of the unsuspecting 
Cynthia's highly erect nipples in passing.

   "OH!" grunted the stunned teenager, as stars appeared 
before her eyes.

   Ruth caught the vulnerable nipples again when she 
brought her hand back.

   Cynthia slumped back in her chair as her world quickly 
spun out of control.

   Ester placed a withered hand on the dazed Cynthia's 
right knee and cooed, "What a delightful dress you're 
wearing tonight, my dear.  Isn't it simply delightful, 
Ruth?"

   "Oh, yes.  Suits her perfectly."  Ruth placed her 
right hand on the teenager's left knee and together the 
two old women began to pull up the girl's gown.

   Cynthia's gown was half-way up her thighs before she 
realized what was happening below the table.  She looked 
with dazed amazement at Ruth and Ester.  The two very old 
ladies were chattering contentedly just as they had been 
before, while her gown continued to inexorably rise on 
her legs.  From their behavior no one would ever realize 
they were undressing her right there at the table.

   She automatically rose to flee when a short, powerful 
blast from the protector caused her to quickly sit again.  
That time she had almost climaxed right there!

   Cynthia looked down and saw with horror that her gown 
was now bunched up around her waist.  The two sisters had 
used her failed escape attempt to pull her gown up past 
her hips.  She pushed her chair as far under the table as 
it would go, then draped the hanging tablecloth around 
her as far as possible.  She was now covered as much as 
was practicable, while the old ladies were now free to do 
whatever they wanted to her below the table. 
 
   Dazed, she looked across the table and saw Kathryn 
laughing at her.  "Kathryn!" she thought, stunned.  "She 
knows what's happening?  I don't believe it!  Why doesn't 
she help me, then?"

   Thought failed her as two strong, rough hands dipped 
between her smooth upper thighs and pressed tightly 
against her protector! 
 
   "We have to lose this now, my dear," Ruth told the 
noncomprehending teenager as she and Ester gently pried 
the still vibrating protector away from Cynthia's vulva.

    Cynthia looked with horror as Ester calmly examined 
the device on the table in front of her while Ruth gently 
ran her fingers up and down the trembling girl's labia.

   "Can't stand these newfangled hidden exciter-things," 
Ester said quietly.  "We've always preferred a good old-
fashioned dildo."

   With a flash, Ester expertly threw the protector 
across the large table to the waiting Kathryn.  "Thanks, 
honey.  You've been swell," Ester told the smiling 
Kathryn.

   "You are welcome, ma'am," said Kathryn, and she walked 
around the table toward the shocked Cynthia, laughing.

   When she reached where Cynthia was sitting, she stood 
behind her.

   "You left me there," Kathryn told her with quiet 
despair.  "You left me alone with those... those people!"  
She sobbed once, then recovered her composure.  "They 
told me you did it deliberately too, to lower the cost of 
your gown.  My old friend.  You set me up, you bitch!  
Well, two can play at that game," Kathryn whispered 
furiously as she held her hands in front of the stricken 
girl and opened them.  

   In Kathryn's right hand Cynthia was embarrassed to 
recognized her crotch protector.  In her left hand was 
some kind of controller.

   "You know what they say.  'Payback's a bitch.'  Well, 
here I am!!  When they gave me the chance to get even 
with you, I jumped at it.  With this remote, I've been 
turning you on all night with the hidden exciter you were 
stupid enough to wear.  You never even noticed it, did 
you?"
   
   "Well ladies," Kathryn whispered to Ruth and Ester, 
"she's all primed and yours for the taking!"

   Ruth placed her mouth close to Cynthia's left ear.  "I 
have a message for you from Mickey," she whispered as she 
inserted three fingers deep into Cynthia's steaming cunt.

   "UH!" Cynthia gasped at the unexpected intrusion.

   "She sends you her regards and hopes you're enjoying 
the gown.  She also said to tell you that you'll be 
spanked very soon for all the times you forgot to say 
"ma'am" to her yesterday. Knowing Mickey as I do, if I 
were you I'd plan on not being able to sit for a long 
while."


   Ester's left hand joined her sister's right hand 
between the girl's thighs under the table.  Soon Cynthia 
had six fingers deep within her, all expertly teasing the 
walls of her helpless vagina, while the digits still 
outside her cunt were busy on her vulva and clitoris.

   The teenager could only groan helplessly as she was 
deftly fondled, held on the edge but never allowed to 
pass the boundary into the blissful release of an orgasm.


   To the discrete inquiries being made about the strange 
behavior of their host's beautiful daughter, Ruth and 
Ester would sweetly explain that Cynthia had a mild touch 
of the flu (the poor thing) and it would be better if 
everyone just kept their distance from her for the 
remainder of the meal.  Not to worry, though.  She had 
placed herself into their capable hands and would be well 
taken care of.


    Finally, dessert was being served.  The Farland 
sisters were from a family who really enjoyed their 
sweets.  They deliberately brought the panting Cynthia to 
her long deigned climax!  They had thoughtfully laid some 
linen napkins earlier on the girl's seat, to absorb any 
lubricants she might expel when she was finally allowed 
her moment.

   Cynthia groaned and shuttered her way uncontrollably 
through her orgasm, while the Farland sisters had to 
explain to everyone that Cynthia was just demonstrating a 
scene she had really liked from some movie she had 
recently seen.  Convincing, wasn't she?


   Cynthia, when she could think again, sat at the table 
feeling terribly, terribly humiliated.  She had 
embarrassed herself again, and in a tent full of people 
this time.  What was wrong with her, she wondered.  What 
was wrong?

   She continued to sit until everyone seated at her 
table had left.  When she was alone, she rose up slightly 
and smoothed her gown down past her hips legs before 
sitting again.

   Cynthia wondered what to do.  The excitement of the 
party had faded, and she really didn't want to mingle 
with these people any more.  Even the joy of wearing her 
gown had fallen from her.   Yet, after vaguely 
remembering receiving some disquieting message from 
Mickey, she didn't want to be alone tonight.

   The answer was obvious.  She would, avoiding crowds by 
taking back-ways whenever possible, return to the 
sanctuary of her room.  There she would clean up (she 
must look frightful after all this), carefully put the 
gown away and never look at it again for the rest of her 
natural life, change into a sensible swim suit (she must 
have one somewhere!) and beach robe, and hang out at the 
pool all evening.  There were always swimmers hanging 
around and it was far enough away from the outside band 
and refreshment tables that it was a fairly peaceful 
place to be.

   Her parents would just have to do without her help 
this year, that's all.  She had had enough excitement for 
one night, thank you, and was looking forward to spending 
the rest of the evening drinking wine by the pool.

End Part V

