‘Wow. You’ve been through a lot.’ Leanne felt him looking at her, but refused to meet his gaze, gritting her teeth. ‘I don’t like to be pit...ed.’ She was already regretting telling him what little she did about her life. ‘I don’t pity you, Leanne. I admire you.’ The conviction in his voice soothed her, and she turned to look at him. Joe reached his hand, as if to caress her cheek, but then stopped and withdrew. ‘You’re much stronger than you look. That much is obvious.’ Leanne’s throat. Hanson watched it disappear into the trees, and somehow its graceful flight brought another dreamy image of Billie into his head. That lovely little cunt of hers, delicately shaped... all white from being hidden from the sun. And when he'd opened it with his tongue the smell had been a mixture of girlish piss musk and the ambrosia of her sex juices. But she was small in the hole. Hanson was pretty sure she'd never been really fucked yet... at least not by any full-grown man. No cock that was. Cathy, having got over her embarrassment, said “yes he is a very good boy. I love him to bits”. Elizabeth turned to me “and you are fine with your wife’s passion for him?” I smiled “yes, if Cathy is happy then I am happy”. She chuckled “what a lovely way to look at it” she said. Cathy thought for a minute or two. “Why don’t you come over Saturday morning for coffee” Cathy said. I immediately realised that coffee wasn’t the only thing she was thinking off “Brad can go shopping and we can get to. His wife was far from adventurous and perhaps their couplings had taken on a very familiar pattern. Still he dearly loved his wife and enjoyed the time they spent together, more so with each passing year. Following that day he could not get the vision of his dog park companion’s perfect posterior out of his mind. He saw it as he drifted off to sleep and on first awakening. He even saw it in his mind while fucking his wife during their predictable every other Sunday engagement. He found no need.