As I turned the cold tap on, I vacantly stared at my own reflection. Tall and thin with big boobs. ‘Why am I still single?’ A question I ask mysel... a lot. I consider myself pretty, 5’11 with long legs, slim build and biggish tits. The next time I look up at the window, I see a figure who I instantly recognise as Adrian standing only inches behind me... I blink – expecting to have imagined this.... Spinning round, my mouth opens to scream, but he has already looped a belt around my neck and my. A real man’s man if you will. I’m rarely afforded the opportunity to touch him, to run the tips of my fingers across the coarse dark hair that covers his strong forearms. I’m oft denied the pleasure and passion of his kisses, remembering them instead in the dreams of my days and the haunt of my nights. I remember fucking him well, though it’s been some time, not by choice, but the realities of life exist. The taste of him, the touch of him, the smell of this man, my love, the memories come. More

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