The figure in the rain walked barefoot across the muddy grass, moving almost in slow motion, each pace measured and careful. There was mud and grit on...the soles of his feet. Good blond hair that was now long enough to tickle his collarbones was plastered flat to his skull by the rain. Loose blue jeans were soaked through, as was the long sleeved white shirt he wore. The water had turned the garment transparent. Cotton clung to the outlines and shapes of the muscles in his chest, his abdomen and. “And has a completely age-appropriate sex education, though our judgment on age, not the usual one from society. That can’t possibly surprise you at this point.”“I guess not, but it’s just weird to have a ten-year-old tell me to have fun with her dad!”“Welcome to the Twilight Zone, otherwise known as Cirque du Steve!”“‘de Steve‘.”“I know, but my friend Jorge coined it and I’m not going to change it. He was killed by a drunk driver several years ago.”“Oh, sorry.”“It’s OK. I didn’t even know it. All this, and I still had to deal with the funerals.Roger Wallace, the Pastor at Charles' home church in Indiana, preached a very lovely funeral service. My mind stayed fixed on his words, and when the Secret Service hoisted the casket of President Charles Thornton onto their shoulders for the trek to the caisson, I blinked away tears. Charles had a very small family, and Diane had only her father. The crowd inside National Cathedral was immense, but close family it was not.This was the first. I’m at the edge. He’s rubbing me so well that I start squirting and I can’t stop. All he can say is “Fuck ah, Fuck ah”. I’m lifting myself off the bed as I cum hard. He stops and throws his phone to the side, removes himself from my mouth and grabs my ankles. He drags my body through the soaked bedding to the edge of the bed. With my knees propped up, he plunges his very hard cock inside my sloppy, wet pussy. That feeling is the best I’ve ever felt. As he’s fucking me, I’m pinching my nipples.