‘Mind if I sit with you?’ she asked. Her voice sounded hopeful. ‘Not at all,’ I said. It was true. I missed her. A lot. Didn’t realize how...much until she sat down next to me and I caught her perfume on the breeze. ‘I’d ask how you are, but that’d be stupid,’ she said softly, folding her hands in her lap as she sat on the small brick wall that segregated my mother’s long dead vegetable garden from the rest of the yard and pool. I snorted softly, ‘Everyone keeps asking me that. I’ve run out. ” I didn’t think it could, but I was so, so wrong: over the next 20 minutes or so, he fucked me in a way I’d never experienced, sometimes gently, sometimes forcefully, but always passionately and even lovingly. I was aware that I was moaning and whimpering uncontrollably, mostly some combination of “Yes, oh, yes”, “Oh my God”, and “fuck me”. In the rare moments that I could actually focus my eyes, I could see his face above me, framed by my legs, and he smiled and strained to bury his cock. More

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