He said, “I love this song.”Without even bothering to look up, she said, “You don’t even know this song.”“There's a crack in the mirror, a...d a bloodstain on the bed,” he said. She looked up for the first time, and said, “You were a vampire, and baby, I'm the walking dead.”“Bloodletting.”“Good song.”She didn’t respond. He knew the lyrics because he had an ex who loved Concrete Blonde. She was the reason he hated them. He figured that he’d established enough cred to warrant another attempt at. I paused briefly, then cautiously I slid my hand down, over her soft pubes and between her legs. She shivered as my hand glided across her soft, fleshy mound, her swollen pussy lips gaped invitingly. I was amazed how slippery she felt. She moaned softly, as my fingertips moved tentatively along her moist slit. I explored her velvety folds, carefully probing her warm, wet pussy, trying to recall the way she’d fingered herself in front of me last Saturday, mimicking her movements as best I could.. More

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