There is sound but very few words are spoken. We are in her sitting room. A cream blouse is promisingly stretched but we never see her tits. Instead, ...he removes her skirt and places a cushion on the arm of the sofa for comfort, then bends herself across it, face down. The camera zooms in for us to see the white silk knickers stretched across an arse that has been looked after - not fat but nicely rounded. The man moves into the picture, opening his trousers and extracting his cock with his. Sam! Take a look at these gals!That is how it all started. If it wasn't exactly good clean fun, it wasn't the escalator to hell either. No, not an escalator. It required some personal initiative to go to hell from that photo. And while you will and I would have described where I ended up as going to hell in the proverbial handbasket, I haven't regretted it for a minute. I can't say I would recommend it to others, but then I was never much for proselytizing. I leave that to the 'holier than. The next morning, I found a CD jammed in the screen of my door. It was from Lola and it was a soundtrack of last night's van escapade. I was dumbfounded because I did not see or think of this idea. I played the CD and there was no doubt what it was. It brought back some fantastic mental images. After about a week, I got another email and read it. Tonight, seven o'clock, surprise, wish granted, and FWB. This was the first time without a waiting period; I knew things would be different. At seven. Snuggled up next to the thief in a strangely comfortable embrace, he drifted back off to sleep. This time, no dreams of blood and death haunted his slumber. **** Sunlight shining through the window and the heat of the day dragged him back to wakefulness. Raven was lying with her head on his chest, and her expression bore hints of a smile. His arm was asleep from lying beneath her, and he moved, trying to pull it free without waking her up. “Mmm. Just a minute more,” she said in an.