<strong>Dimitri</strong><br/><br/>The ball room shifted and changed over the next hour after Dimitri arrived, but he remained still and constant.  Guests entered, alone, and left, with a staff member.  The younger they were, the quicker they left.  Dimitri was not young.  He was patient, and his lust burned long and hot.  There was no hurry.  The drinks were exquisite here.<br/><br/>He noted the arrival, well the return, of the young woman.  Her red hair was striking, almost as much as her youthful, fresh look.  There were many who did the sex work who had been worn out by the years, who were desirable for what they were willing to do, not for their appearance.  This woman looked like every man's fantasy of a young innocent, the dew still on her.  And from her sideways glance it was apparent that she was interested in Dimitri.  He assumed that the girls here were required to do their best to keep busy with clients.  But there were others available in the room.  That her eyes sought out Dimitri told him something, and gave him a permission.<br/><br/>Dimitri rose carefully, placing his glass down neatly on the napkin and smoothing out his suit.  He walked slowly in the direction of the woman, his gaze never wavering, his pace never increasing.  When he arrived in just over an arm's length away from the woman he stopped, hands clasped behind his back.  "You're ready for me now," he said without a question in his voice.  She was not a new staff he did not think, but he had never had her.