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The Thief of the Rose
Date: 4/4/2015, Categories: Fiction, Non-Erotic, Author: mj37, Rating: 82.6, Source: sexstories.com
Prologue New York City, New York, USA, 1999. The corners of 42nd street and Broadway in Manhattan were affectionately called One Times Square. At 11:58pm on December 31, 1999, Times Square was packed with revelers waiting to ring in the New Year. This year in particular, more people than ever before waited for the dropping of the ball. Waiting alongside the undulating mass of people was a single stranger, seemingly out of place, or more accurately, out of time. He had shoulder length brown hair, slightly greying at the temples, his hair styled to frame an oval face with cheeks that dimpled when he smiled, laugh lines permanently etched into the corners of his mouth. One brown eye and one blue still twinkled when he laughed, although the crow's feet betrayed the youthful face. And a lilting voice, now more serious than in days of old. He was of medium height, well fed but fit, clothes immaculately tailored, longsword buckled to his left hip, parrying dagger on his right, and a harp bag slung over his shoulder. That last sentence was the clue that the man was out of place. He was dressed more appropriately for 1499 rather than 1999, and certainly no one in this time period carried a longsword, or parrying dagger at their hip. He could have been an actor from one of the many Broadway plays, except there were no plays currently running of that genre. No, this man was no actor; he did not carry himself like an actor, more like a warrior. There was strength in his presence and ...