“Can you tell me who this is?” Scrotum asked feeling ashamed that he was still staring at the dead woman's ass with his hand down his pants. “Th...t information is not known at this time, you sexy man. Would you like me to scan her and put her genetic makeup through the galactic interweb?” “Err please,” Scrotum replied. The door opened, and a small scanning drone flew in and hovered over the still form, several beams of light shone out of it covering it from head to toes. To scrotum it looked. As the months passed, whenever we were alone and I thought there was little chance of an untimely interruption I would masturbate in the hope of her finding me enjoying my self-pleasuring. Sometimes she would stand at the bedroom door watching sometimes she would take up a position at the foot of the bed. She would often watch silently sometimes departing before I reached a climax, sometimes encouraging me to unleash my load and give her a good view of my exploding cock.In January 1975, alone. Everyone knew Bella was a whore, and Idesired her even more because of it.That night I moved to her, but in my fantasy as I now imagined it, itwas no longer me that was entering her, it was Anderson. Anderson wasstrong and masculine; he was much larger than me in every imaginableway. I recalled his huge cock photographically and in my mind he wasme, and I? Well I was Bella of course. It was now me on my hands andknees, whining like a bitch."Fuck me, fuck me Mr. Anderson."After that, there was. After all, I was there helping her. And she had called me in herself.“Maa haath nahi jaa raha, mein fisal na jaaon?” I said in a shaking voice. (Mom I can’t reach up, my foot might slip.) I was not scoffing anymore. My frustration had vanished and any thoughts I had about the TV were long gone. I just wanted to stay right here, in the bathroom, with her. I wanted to delay this bulb replacement process as much as I could, so I could stay in there. It gave me a weird kind of pleasure, even though.