I was getting close again, putting my hands underneath slippery ass and lower back to hold myself in one position as she lifted her legs higher and to...ether, Christine squealed as I soaked the inside of her sex organ with the last of the ball-juice I had to offer. Still I kept making quick, stabbing thrusts with my pork-sword, I wanted the feeling to last a lifetime. Christine cooed softly as I lay next to her, spent and gently brushing her clitoris and labia with my fingers, dipping them into. "He may wish he never said that. I know I was awfully lonely last night.I can't see how people live all by themselves?" she told me. "I guess they get use to it eventually." It was just past three when Amy and I walked into the apartment. BeforeI put away the groceries I mixed up a marinade and poured it over thesteaks then set them in the fridge until I was ready to put them on thebroiler. While I mixed up the marinade Amy asked me what I was doing and why Iwas doing it. She seemed generally. Claiming it. I gave him a while (it seemed like a long while), until FINALLY he started to say something. I was waiting for that so I could cut him off, which I did, snarling at him through my teeth SHUT THE FUCK UP FEMBOI. He flinched like I slapped him, and went back to standing there impotently, those doe-eyes of his brimming up with tears again, blinking at the ceiling, willing himself not to cry. I held him there for what felt like minutes (probably felt like hours to him) watching him. LAURIE, ' he typed back.There was an attachment with a jpeg of her and Igor proudly holding their airline tickets and passports. Laurie had no doubt John Hargood was the one going to look stupid. He clicked on his favourite photo once again. The one with her in the sweater smiling. He took that image with him to bed.Three weeks later he awoke in the morning as usual at 5am. As usual he went out into the chill morning to help bring the herd in for milking. He fired up the Kawasaki Workhorse and.