She had just seen the little white stain on the bed. She bent close to examine it, and then pulled her leggings down to look at her pussy. It had been...real, it had all been so very real. Where was Angela? If last night had been real, then that meant Angela would still have… Oh no, thought Gwen. If last night had been real, then I might be… ‘Angela,’ yelled Gwen, suddenly very worried. ‘In here,’ Angela called from the living room. Gwen walked in slowly, afraid to rush in just in case she was. The whyof not still being Kristina but instead... that took a while. For herpart it was all shrugs and vague, '...yes I'm much happier' or ' I'mmore peaceful. More centred now'. The lie of it written in the shadowedexpression and constantly flicking eyes, as they measured theexpressions and appraisal of all that passed. We parted after a couple of hours, fortunately of coffee this time, withphone numbers and a slightly one-sided desire to keep in touch.2.And we did. As I gradually made my way. More

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