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He nodded his head, being polite over the phone. He found himself intensely excited. Not really even sexually, just thrilled to hear from her. It made him agitated. They finished the conversation and he hung up. He looked around the apartment. It was pretty clean. He tried to guess whether she’d come inside, gauged the chances, and decided to try to get ready for the possibility. He straightened some things out on the kitchen counter, gathered up books and magazines into a stack. He had a sudden thought and rushed to the bedroom. He felt under the pillow for the M9, popped the mag out, locked the two things in the closet fire safe, then made the bed. He thought about whether he had condoms, then laughed at himself: that wasn’t going to happen. He threw on a pair of shorts and a clean t-shirt, Converse. In the bathroom he checked himself in the mirror and sprayed some cranberry-smelling crap his sister had given him. He felt vulnerable, awkward and stupid in the clothes, but he. Rebecca had been a “good girl” for quite a while but the temptation was too much. She agreed as long as her husband and son never found out.I’m sure the son, Jason, didn’t wonder what his mother was doing during the two hours he was naked with my wife. He was exhausted but my hot wife was ready for more. I couldn’t help her until much later.Rebecca is a slightly plump mid-forties blond. Big soft tits and sparse blond muff. By the time we got naked I could smell her aroused pussy so I gave it a taste. She bit her finger to keep quiet as soon as I licked her clit. Her husband rarely gave her that kind of pleasure any more. After I made her shiver I flipped over and enjoyed her big fun bags as she rode my rod. It was fun to just lie there and let her use me as she took various pleasures. Her pussy was tighter than my wife’s and had a different texture too. My cockhead kept rubbing her cervix on the deep insertions. That felt real good to both of us. Her husband rarely went that deep,.
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As they struggled through the bowels of the village, Lena began to notice splashes of color amongst the ashen trees and the brown mud. There were flowers growing here, clinging to whatever they could grasp with their roots. They were behaving somewhat like creepers, unable to grow in the mud itself, but thriving where the mangroves made the earth firm enough to take hold and climbing up the wooden supports. There were flowering shrubs, clumps of dark green leaves with vibrant, star-shaped flowers in hues of indigo and purple. Vines similar to the ones that she had seen during her trip through the swamp were here also, coiling their way along roots and beams, covered in blossoms that looked like pink roses.It was almost as if someone had hidden a beautiful garden down here, like something out of a storybook. They were everywhere that she looked, growing thicker and more numerous as she walked slowly forward, sprouting from the ugly muck and damp as if to spite it. Soon there wasn’t a.

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