I run a small guesthouse where you stay. That night the two of you come out where I am chopping some wood. I had no shirt. The two of you say hi to me...and sit in the chairs nearby. As you watch me, you feel a stirring between your legs, a heat spreading in you pussy. Your pussy becomes moist. The flicks that you watched with your husband comes flashing through your mind, those well hung black guys. You wonder if I was hung like that. I finish chopping and come over and sit next to you and your. This warm and calm teenager, who has suddenly appeared to make me his friend. My whole body is shaking with the grief and emotional turmoil within me that has been buried a long way under the surface these past three weeks. The tears continue to roll down my cheeks, my chin and ultimately my chest. Simon says nothing. He picks up my hand in his free hand. I lift my chin to look at him, kind of surprised at what he has done. Holding hands!? With another lad? What the...? But all he does is look. More

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