As we drove the last mile to my place I asked what sort of cleaning was in prospect for the afternoon that involved chilled wine. "No cleaning" she sa...d "it's too hot. Anyway, it's a shame to waste the sunshine." "Bit of sunbathing then?" I suggested. "For sure." she laughed."Where are those nice wine glasses you used to have?" Larna's voice came from the kitchen. "Hang on, they're in one of the top cupboards." I went to the kitchen to find the glasses for her. I turned and very nearly dropped. I normally do 5 laps so after 3 laps I started to feel my legs and was pumping myself up to do the final two. As I came into the longest straight line of the lap, my heart skipped a beat. From the other direction a familiar figure appeared. I immediately made out the blue of his soccer outfit and his wavy hair. This time he was wearing shorts (obviously he felt better about his legs). As we crossed I looked at him and to my surprise he looked right back at me, but he gave me no sign of. That the cartoonish symbol of the heart commonly seen around Valentine’s Day was not modeled on the human heart at all, but rather, it’s an exaggerated caricature of the female behind—positioned at the ready in all sexual anticipation. ‘And why not,’ I thought. What better symbol of love—or at least love from lust—than a woman, positioned so, offering herself with full compliance and submissiveness, to allow any and all things to be done to her delicate features? I looked over at Karen, and. .mmmff..." my words were cut off and muffled in her dripping snatch as I became aware of her straddling my face with her thighs. She was grabbing the back of my head and was forcing my face into her wet pussy. I could feel her increased wetness as she pushed my face all around on her pussy, using my face like a washcloth and the whole time grabbing my hair and telling me to suck her pussy. I was startled by the smell and taste of her pussy, and for a moment thought that she had brought another.