’ Getting another husband might be well nigh impossible!”“Not with the right septon or Red Priest or weirwood tree. You, me, and the marriage be... have an appointment, but with the clear understanding that I’m hardly the faithful sort. Then again, your first husband was a bugger, your second preferred torture to coupling, and your third was a sweet, pliable lad who shared your favors with me and your own brother, among others. Marriage by the book was never in the cards for you,” I proposed my. He had been quite charming and attentive, but she had refused to sleep with him until the divorce was final. He did not have any kids and her son was grown and living on his own.She had always tried to stay in shape, working out several times a week at the gym in the building where she worked. Her company had made a deal with them, allowing employees a drastically reduced rate to join. She also loved riding her bike on a nearby bike path when weather permitted. Craig was in pretty decent shape. She bent forward from the waist and licked the head of my cock making it tingle with anticipation. She placed a hand on my legs on either side to steady herself and sucked the top of my cock into her mouth. I could feel the heat of her around myself and felt my cock twitching as she sucked it. Without stopping, she knelt between my legs and pulled my balls free and massaged them as she sucked me. Her tongue swirled around the shaft of my cock, and stroking it, her mouth slid the length of me. I don’t fear judges. I don’t fear the electric chair. I know what hell on earth is. I’ve been there and come back. There is nothing on the planet that scares me now. When I came back to Harlem, my parents were glad to see me. Many young black men who go to jail don’t come back. My folks were glad that I had been found not guilty. The man I had killed was a violent racist. What parents didn’t know is the simple truth. I didn’t come back. Not really. I’m not Alfonso Brown anymore. I’m someone.