"Oh honey, is something wrong? Is your hand hurt?" he asked.She rolled her head over far enough to look at him. "Nothing is wrong. I just now realized...how much I have to be thankful for and how easy it would be to lose it all. If I had died I would have lost you."He began to cry. "Oh Amanda, I..." he could go no further."Oh Christ, don't cry. I hate it when you cry. It's unfair for you to cry. Stop it, I say," she begged in a pleading tone of voice. "Grown men are not supposed to cry except in. John Barrington?’ She forced herself to keep that smile on her lips as she walked over to him. Much like the house she drove up to, the cowboy got bigger as she got closer. ‘Housekeeper? You?’ His tone sounded almost disdainful. Scratch that. It was disdainful. ‘And cook. Yes,’ she said with a smile and a nod, struggling to maintain a friendly disposition. He wasn’t making it easy! When he made no further move or comment, she thought it would be a good idea to introduce herself. Perhaps that. ‘Look! The mall!’ ***** ‘Come on, lets go.’ ‘I don’t want to. I’m enjoying it here with you.’ ‘You promised.’ ‘Ugh. Tell me why again?’ ‘Because it’s the beginning of a brand new day. Great things are gonna come from this.’ ‘How do you know?’ ‘Quit trying to wiggle out of it.’ She slapped his ass and pushed him off of her. * ‘The Metro is so cool.’ ‘Yeah. For sure.’ ‘Here we are. Smithsonian station.’ He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. Her eyes sparkled as she took in the view as they. He was breaking her in, making her sex conform to his dimensions. He edged slightly deeper and she groaned again, digging her nails into his back. He tried to edge back out, to complete his tease, but she wrapped her legs around him and buried her lips into his neck. She squeezed his prick deeper inside her as she groaned into his neck. Inch by inch he slid into her, until he was buried to the hilt. Now he was ready to fuck. He kept a steady pace, slowly easing out of her before slamming back.