Secondly, and nearly overwhelming, was a sense of deep loss and depression. Her eyes had been taken from me. I didn't matter if they were never real -...they were gone.I stumbled home in a haze, not really seeing or hearing anything, but just trying to hold on to the memory of the sight of her. It felt like it was dissolving in my mind, out of my grasp like sand falling through my fingertips.Home at last, I tore off my clothes and stood before the mirror in my brightly lit bathroom. Visible as. Becky still looked sexy to my mind's eye. I thought about the clothesjust sliding off her and I felt a quiet chill running down my spine,kindling a kind of fire of warmth. I thought about tearing the clothesfrom her body and roughly taking her, but I realised that it wasn'tAngelo who I was in the dream, but an altered Angelina. It was almost enough to give you a headache.My tit was sexy, I still recognised that, and there was sensuality in myskin, but it was all with a touch of dispassion. I. However, I realized that I had no choice, given Catherine's strong wishes, so I said nothing. I went to the bedroom, gathered my things and proceeded to the guest room. There, adding insult to injury, I saw that they had fucked on the guest bed, leaving behind deposits for me to sleep on.The week proceeded slowly. I managed to avoid them most of the time. Once, however, I interrupted them in the kitchen. Catherine was bent over the table, her skirt lifted above her waist. Roy's cock was plowing. Stepping through the curtain, Rich stepped out onto the balcony, which looked out over the decking below, down onto the beach and then out onto the blue waters, which lapped gently onto the sand. From her position in the large bed, Susanna saw Rich turn. His profile now visible to her and she watched as his large penis swung with the movement and she wondered if he was beginning to become aroused, or if he was still a little engorged from the previous night when she had used her body to help.