At least I thought.The rest is maybe a bit boring for readers of steamy sex stories. Our love grew. We posted poems at each other's walls. Despite bei...g a dream team as a couple of lovers as Princess with her Prince Poet, well, we had some sad set-backs as well. By hand I wrote booklet about our love. Very fast. Only three weeks for 200 pages.We dream of her visit to me in my cosy little corner, the 'armpit' of old town and the old wood harbour across my street. La bella Isabella will have her. There was more than just Tom fucking her? She was doing several men at a time? My wife? My Nicky? A common slut? It couldn't be. I couldn't believe it. Anne must be making it all up because of Tom being with her."I have proof. That lady gave me pictures and some movies the guys had made. Her husband wasn't that good at hiding them it seems, and during their divorce those movies cost him dearly. Very dearly." You have movies? More than one? Oh God."I threw up. I was standing outside thank God.... I leaned forward and took another deep breath exhaling on her asshole and pussy. My dick was so hard I could barley contain myself. She then rolled back over and began to play again for me. Rubbing her big tits and wet pussy, she was moaning louder and louder. I sat back and watched the show as she brought herself nearly to orgasm twice. I could see a little bit of cum start to leak out of her pussy as she was pulling her fingers out ever once and awhile. I then asked if she wanted me to lick. ’ she had commented. I nodded in silent almost tearful agreement. We shared the sadness born of long term loving spouses’ recent deaths. We were both familiar with the deep monogamous intimacy of a committed love stressed by illness then terminated by death. I wanted to hug her and share our loss but my professional training and the clinical setting prevented this expression of our personal needs. She sensed my dilemma and responded by gently squeezing my hands together with a soft smile of.