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"I must have been crazy ... I must have been ... why else would I have run away from you and our child, leaving you like that and..." Her voice died, her eyes were down.He still didn't know what to say. His throat was jammed with thoughts and emotions, insults and unshed tears. A full minute passed. Olga took a sip from her glass. When she looked up again, her face was even paler. "How is ... how is little Stanley, John? Is he all right? I guess it was him I saw at the beach? I think..." He cut her off. "His name is Christopher, Olga." The steadiness of his voice surprised him. Her lashes fluttered. "Of course," she mumbled. "Of course, Christopher. How stupid of me." Olga," he began, not knowing at all where to go with this conversation. "Is it still Olga? Maybe you have another name now?" She shrugged and said Olga was fine. He went on. "I don't want you near Christopher, do you understand?" Her eyes closed before she nodded."You ran away, denying him the milk in your tits," he. He looks into your eyes. Take off your dress off, he says. You rush to comply, what hold this stranger has you don’t know but you want to please him, you want to make him happy. You can feel a fire starting in your body; you realize you are standing there in only your leggings, bra, and your panties under the leggings. He’s not forcing you but you feel that you want his approval, you know that if you please him, he will please you. Remove your leggings, he commands. You turn away from him and start to remove the leggings; you bend at the waist and you know he is looking at your ass, he can see the meat of your pussy wrapped in the thong you are wearing.Wait, you realize you are getting wet. His only touch was the smoldering kiss that he gave you, yet you are feeling lust, a massive desire for him. Take off your bra; his words reverberate through you. You try to seductively remove your bra, and your nipples harden in response to the air in the room. You know what is coming next. You.
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He caught her fingers in his, pulling her closer and leaning his head down until the foreheads of their masks clinked. She reached up to cup his face and he dropped his hands to the dip of her back, pulling her pelvis to his without restricting her movement. Cock pressing thick and hard against her naked belly, his eyes bore into hers. The intensity in his gaze was a feeling she shared, though it terrified her to the depths of everything she thought she was. Her fingers found the ridged front of his mask. She stopped, searching his eyes. “Do it.” Tucking her rust-polished fingernails under the ornate golden cheeks, she urged the papier-mache face upward. The elastic band swept through his dark locks and popped back at her fingers as inch by inch she revealed him. A stubbled chin, full lower lip, bowed upper one. The straight nose. Coal black burning gaze, framed by fine, long lashes. The mask trembled in her grip, her arms falling to her sides as recognition electrified her.

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