“Melissa! Fancy meeting you here?”I secretly shook my head in despair at my attempt at surprise but I could tell she knew the truth. I could see i... in her wry smile and the way she pursed her lips. I quickly looked down to her heaving bags of shopping, trying their best to contain their contents by the thin straining handles.“They look heavy. Let me,” I said moving towards her and nodding to the bags in her hands.She let me take one of the bags and started to walk towards her house.“So what are. Something disrupted them.“My head hurts...” He was then holding his head with both hands. “Shit, Tim. I think I strained ... Ow, ow, OW! SHIT!”He almost slammed his head onto the table and had his arms wrapped around the back of his head.Starting to panic, I said, “Joey? Come on, Joey. Speak to me. I can’t get in your head.”His response was only to groan and rock his head back and forth.I kept trying to focus on Joey’s mind, but it wasn’t making sense to me. It was there, but his pain seemed to. I don’t know if it’s just the anticipation, but that moment when a cockhead first pops inside my ass is so sensual, so arousing; and that big mushroom tip of his is always a big pop. This time was no different; as Don grabbed my hips, his tip already putting pressure against my ring, and with a deliberate thrust, a gasp escaped my lips, his big bare cockhead was in. Regardless of where I was at before, I now had a cock inside me, and wanted to ride that thing hard and fast. Don wasn’t waiting. Although as the doctor had said she could see nothing that resembled a baby, Tara retrieved this memento from the toilet. She put it into a freezer bag, planning to give her baby a burial perhaps in a pot where she could watch something grow in memory of the part of them that should have been. But six weeks later that freezer bag still sat like a silent reminder of her loss each time she opened those doors. Despite six weeks on anti-depressants and a couple of counselling sessions, Tara still.