My wetness told him everything. I had no secrets. No inhibitions. I was his whore.I had long lost control of the situation, and now lost control of my...elf. Blake then began opening me up, fingering me hard with what I felt was two fingers. I held him tight, moaning into his ear. My moans then became screams as I rained lust all over his fingers.The orgasm came hard, fast. Deep. Wet. But most of all, guilty.I collapsed on top, rested for a moment as I caught my breath.I was now thinking of John.. As she approached, he rose to meet her, a gentleman’s gesture, and it was apparent they were each one half of an ancient union, with the easy familiarity that decades of living together instills. My book of Bukowski rants was reduced to being a simple prop, behind which I hid as I observed this slice of marital life unfold before me. She started talking before she was even seated, with a theatrical boom and swell to her voice that seemed To echo off the trees and sidewalks of Central Park. She. More

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