A name. It had been so long since he’d used it that he had forgotten his birth name. In the hospital after the visitors stopped he was only known as...patient as he slowly weakened and could barely utter a word.“I don’t have a name either.” He says.Her eyes widen, and she floats above him, putting her boobs onto his head. “That’s good. Neither of us has a name, now is the perfect chance to reinvent ourselves.”“Reinvent?” He asks.He had plenty of questions, but the thing he wondered about the most. This would never change. His most ardent admirer, his controlling harridan of a mother, had once told him that he looked handsome in blue. Naomi Lawson-Smith. 35 could be quite beautiful, if she ever smiled. Instead she seethed bitterness and resentment as the scowl was becoming permanently etched, rewritten into the design of her face. She was petite, with dainty, pixie features, naturally slim, perpetually tanned and had glossy dark brown hair that belonged in an advert for shampoo. Christian. We walked over to the garage where my truck was parked and with her in the passenger seat with two little dogs walking all over her, we drove over to the Baptist Medical Center.She showed me where to let her out and I stopped at the entrance and ran around to open her door.“We’ll be here to get you, call me and let me know about your job,” I told her and we kissed hard – deep - and passionately. She reached in and patted JoJo and Bandit on the heads.“I want you already, Owen,” she said.“I want. Charlie moaned and lowered his face to mine, I turned my head and Charlie kissed my ear sticking his tongue into my ear. I tried to hold Charlie up by pushing against his chest with my left hand, Charlie sucked ,my ear lobe and tried to kiss my lips. I would strain my neck trying to keep him from kissing me. Charlie's penis slipped deeper into me till all nine inches of his manhood was buried deep in my bung hole. Charlie started to hump in and out of my butt telling me how good my pussy felt.