But you will not age in that time, Roberta. You will look as young seventy years from now as you do today. Even after all those long and painful years...during which your back will be horribly punished each and every day, my body at night will be as sweet to the taste and touch as it is now. And it will be yours! My silly sentimental sister wishes you to go back to your old life where you will most likely die a glorious death in battle within a year. We have to decide between us which future it. She’s not much more awake than I am. I start as I hear the door open. It’s a man. Perhaps in his fifties, but younger looking. There is something of Colin Firth about him. He is very smartly dressed. Almost over the top. His outfit borders on black tie. Even through my bleary eyes I notice the intense shine of his shoes. They do not look cheap. He does not introduce himself. Instead he walks in with the confidence of somebody who is used to being obeyed. He seizes the curtains and pulls them. I fear I shall not be long behind him for winter chills my bones and I sleep more and more by the brazier in the Scriptorium. My hands have grown too stiff for fine work these many years but I may still wield my pen to good effect.Presently, I dwell on secular matters. I trust that those who follow me will forgive an old man's foibles. I spent my youth and my prime in the service of God and one man, a King, it is true, but a man for all that. Ælfred had his faults, which of us does not?. Collins was her daughter.I kissed her, trying to hold my orgasm and knowing I couldn't. I kissed the woman the best I knew how, pumping her cum dripping pussy with short strokes and teasing her tongue with mine. When my cock began to pulse and spurt a fresh load of sperm inside her, I only slowed down. I didn't stop. I rocked my hips, working my long, fat erection into her the way I liked to do it with Jules. I loved the woman with my mouth and cock, with my fingers in her hair, and she loved.