My hands went up and down her back more vigorously with the intent of exciting her further. She sighed quietly, soaking up the attention I gave her. H...r body stayed relaxed with her head drooping just a little bit to give a sense of submission. I moved my hands down to her waist and started to move slowly, purposefully up her belly. My intentions were pretty clear to her by the time I touched her ribs once again. My fingertips slipped gently underneath the outer stitching of those soft, green. Rydal Spillane, 68, retired terraforman, recently widowed, no known deviancies. This fat fuck wants love.I give him the melty look: Dewy eyes, softened features, slightly parted lips. "Hi, honey," I purr. His heart rate is accelerating, his sweat production increases by 7%. I lean forward, nestle my long hair against his neck. "It's so nice to be here with you."His hand on my shoulder, wrinkled and calloused. Terraforming is a rough job if you're in the field. His wife should have got him into. Leaning up on his elbows, his hands holding her head still, as he took her mouth, tongues intimately dancing. Hot skin rubbed against hot skin, sliding softly, nerve endings aware. Her nipples tingling as the rough hair on his chest scraped against them, making the sensitive pebbles harden even more as the blood rushed into them. Her leg slightly rose up, her thigh rubbing against his thigh, her foot rubbing down his calf, her nails scraping down his back, and then up again. She felt his head. Relief flooded her. They were finally here, and they were safe. Now they were her children, and she was their mother. This was a time when they would need her more than ever. The passengers began filing out of the train. Two well dressed women stepped delicately into the Knightsville soil, their noses twitching at the sight of well worn dresses, and shabby looking shawls. Compared to the two Alexandria women, the towns women looked worn and dirty. Amelia knew from experience that they were mail.