They were happy times. The grass was greener, the light was brighter. ****** Helen continued to relate the story of her life to the pretty young woman...beside her. She told her how shed moved into the studio loft soon after, and that summer Jonathan had painted picture after picture of her during the days and the nights had been spent consummating their passions. The nights of wonder, Helen described them as. One of their favourite paintings had been one of her, naked, on a rusty swing. Shed sat. Eventually our nods turned to greetings, then short phrases. I figured that one day, we might even talk, but I would leave that step up to her.However, I noticed that her t-shirt turned into a sport bra and her shorts became a little shorter. From what I could see, she looked very fine. Our meetings began to become the highlight of my day. What can I say? I am ... after all ... still a man.One of the other highlights occurred when I crossed the footbridge. I always made it a point to pause for. There my dad introduced me to Kamal (his friend’s son). He was a very cute looking guy. He was slim, 5’9″, wheatish, with a very cute smile(that made my dick hard instantly). We met and my dad left me there to start my day. Coaching center was on a walking distance from my home. Class used to be in morning.Kamal and me became good friends. We generally spent sometime together after the classes in eating out on roadside, looking at girls and talking about sex. Sometimes we went to my home after. "He took a step towards her and she saw a tie and a belt in his hands. Fear coursed through her body. "Sorry? You're sorry?" He took another step. "You're only sorry that you drank the wrong beer." Another step. "You're not sorry for trying to knock me out."Shaking her head fiercely, she explained. "I am sorry! I'm just tired of you raping me and telling me that you're going to kill me and ma." You love it." He took the final step that placed him in front of her. "You love it when I fuck you..
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