“We don’t have any children,” she reminded me. “Well, not yet,” I agreed. “But, we will, won’t we?” “Yes, I hope so. But suppose we ...idn’t. Even so, what we have and who we are doesn’t simply end.” “So, you believe in an afterlife?” “In some form, yes,” she replied. “But, at the funeral, you said the ex hadn’t thought beyond his own existence.” “That was him,” she said. “Not me.” “See, the problem is there are all those rules and rituals. I’m not sure what effect that will have on us.” She took. Mistress wantedto play. How delightful.Her right hand caressed my butt softly. Then it it began to probe. ThankGod she kept her nails short. He pushed her finger, no fingers, into medeeply. I moaned."Will you lick me, my pet." When have I ever said no to you, Mistress?" I responded.She shifted in the bed. She climbed on top of me - she was always on top -and settled on my face. I adjusted slightly to breathe easier. She began torock on me. She grabbed my hair. It was going to be a wild ride.I. Marisol enjoyed her infamous reputation because it made her the center of attention and helped to keep her in the style to which she had become accustomed. She slid easily into a dissolute manner of existence with perhaps too many men, too much to drink, and far too much pleasure of a kinky variety.One of her weaknesses was for the use of a mask while giving oral satisfaction perhaps derived from her early training "under the table". She would often don a mask with other females of loose morals. I opened the door to the shop and looked Max dead in the eye. "I'm taking the rest of today off, sucker! Ha ha!"--------- I made sure I was early, and even checked to see if I could make reservations, something set off to the side so as to be as intimate as possible. I checked my wool overcoat at the door, and went to the bathroom for a pre-game solo pep talk. I checked my hair in the mirror, adjusted my tie, cuffs, and waistline. I even applied a bit more cologne so it was still.