From my vantage point, in the cool shoreline water, I continued to watch the frequent and mysterious comings and goings at the treeline.We remained naked and he had me sit between his legs on the blanket. He caressed my hair, face and chest while we feasted on ham and cheese sandwiches, pickles and fruit. He poured each of us a glass of red wine from a bottle. A few men stopped by to acknowledge his presence and clearly ogle my genitals, perhaps complimenting him on the Adonis boy and his good fortune, as he would occasionally kiss the top of my head and lovingly cuddle me or stroke my naked skin.While we enjoyed our picnic lunch, I saw that another troop carrier had unloaded its cargo. Ten or so boys were led down to the beach and forced to strip. One older teen was defiant and was beaten by several soldiers with batons as they forcibly ripped away his clothes.More men began filtering down to the beach from the camp and boys were quickly being paraded out of sight, some forcefully,. He was in trouble this time.Enormous trouble.Literally breathless with surprise, Alex turned to face the tall, green-eyed virago looming in the doorway. Julia Conway stood with her hands straddling her wide hips, face simmering with rage and relief. Relief because her wayward nephew had finally arrived home; rage because it was two-thirty in the morning."Where have you been?" Julia demanded, her words slicing the air like a razor.Alex flinched like a frightened child, his mind whirling with panic. Aunt Julia wasn't just angry. She was utterly furious. Her eyes sparkled with emerald fire, her mouth was a taunt red line. Alex could almost feel the heat radiating off her in blistering waves. He wavered before that scalding gaze, frantically searching for an excuse, an escape route; some pretext by which he could evade imminent justice.Nothing much came to mind.She'd caught him red-handed, after all. All his lies and schemes and covert little deceptions had come to nothing: she'd snared.
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