“Yeah.” He said a third time.She leaned forward, took his face in her hands and gave him a sisterly kiss on the mouth. She smiled and asked, “Di... you enjoy that?”He looked sheepish but didn’t say anything.My wife sat on him calmly, his dick still up her ass. She said, “Hmmm?” She brushed his hair back, “Your first time. Felt like you enjoyed it.”“It was … great.” He said.She smiled, “It was great.” She kissed him again a little more tenderly. “Thank you, Mark.” She lifted herself off his limp. Everyone seems to think I’m obstinate, silly or naive. But I lived for so long with no control over my future, passed from this home to that or thrown into a group home, having to watch the couple of things I could call my own, to keep them from getting stolen. I never got to make my own choices, everyone else was telling me what’s best for me. This isn’t quite the same, but still ... I don’t think you should change someone’s life without telling them.”“I guess.”“Look how you took the news when. "Good morning momma!" said Evita, turning the corner into the kitchen.Ted felt his vocal chords jiggle like when he'd cooed during orgasmearlier."Good morning baby doll!"Had it been able to, Ted's jaw would've dropped. Over the stove stoodAnita Smith in nothing but red high heels, a thong, and some chilipepper-colored pasties."Is that what you're wearing to church, momma? It seems a little..."Slutty? thought Ted."..chilly!"Anita smiled her signature smile and her cheeks turned a little red. She wasn’t supposed to arrive for almost a month. I promised her that I’d tell no one. After a while it became obvious that we got along well. We also both had our own sadness. Neither of which we had yet seen fit to describe or talk about. I gathered that hers was about her work. I didn’t have much to do with art or painting but I was sure she was good at it. I had to admit though, that I probably wouldn’t know good art from bad. By the time I paid any attention to the time, my cell phone was.
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