You gasped as I filled you. Lifting you so you were on tip toes and the head of my cock. “Oh baby, fuck me!” you whimpered “Fuck me hard!” ... started lifting and thrusting, lifting you on my cock, filling you with my cock. Your hands were roving all over my back. My mouth was kissing you passionately and deeply, our tongues intertwined. I was pushing you back against the wall of the toilet, the noise of our fucking (we hoped) being drowned out by the scream of the engines. I was filling. ”“I want to love my husband. I want my husband to love me. I think the second is more important. You have that. How can I?”“It is unfortunate that I met your brother before I met you. I was certain that I knew all about love back then. I know little about it now that I have experienced it.”“Would your certainty have been correct about me?” Anne asked.“There is that. It was not very accurate about me. I have a dear friend who tells me she fell in love several years into her marriage -- and fell. Seeing that I'd settled down now, Talon began examining me for injuries. I had several pieces of glass in my side from where I'd slid across the floor and a knife was necessary to remove more glass from places that had begun to heal over. Several slices had already scabbed up on my hands and feet and he was forced to break those open and scrub them under the faucet to insure no shards were in my flesh. When he tried to pull my left leg forward under the running water, I let out a breathless. I began scrubbing more furiously and in doing so, didn’t notice the doors to the corridor open. The first I became aware that I wasn’t alone, was when I noticed a black pair of size tens stood just ahead of where I was rubbing. I shut my eyes and prayed that they’d be gone when I opened them again. Sadly, no. A second look revealed the feet to be exactly where I’d left them, my gaze travelled up a pair of familiar, black trouser-clad legs (no I didn’t linger at the crotch, what kind of person.
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