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The sound of his voice once set my legs to quivering and my heart to pounding. If only I could hear that voice again.I sit on my bed and wait. Will the whippoorwill sing again? Will he call me to Bryden's side? The bird conjures memories, a sound we often heard as we lay hidden in our stolen bliss. In those purloined hours, the darkest of night just before the waking of dawn, we clung to each other, making promises that lovers make, clinging to one another as if we would never let go.How long has he been gone? How many years has it been?I drifted through those years alone, watching without seeing, as the world swirled around me. My home, living with my parents, had been perched atop a solitary hill, miles from nowhere, when I had known my Bryden. The world has enveloped it now, industry and urban crawl closing around it, surrounding my bastion as an oppressive scourge, stealing the air I breathe.His arms once surrounded me, forcing away the world that now tries to swallow me. I knew. Into her I went. Slowly at first. Easing my wayin. Deeper and deeper as her ass swallowed the head of my cock. In further. She squealed with a mixture of pain and pleasure. In further. She groaned. In further. Until I was half the way in. In further. As she widened for me. Infully as my balls slapped against her. Still tight but oh so welcoming. “Fuck me hard, fuck me long, fuck me with your lovely cock. Stretch me and pump your cum in my ass.” I got the impression Michaela wanted more. So, not a man to disappoint, I withdrew my cock and then forced it back into her. She was tight but I’d stretch her as she desired. Where we were positioned on the bed Michaela was facing a wide full length mirror and she could see my upper body and smiling face as I relentlessly pumped her ass. “Can we please turn so I can see the side on view of you fuckingme ?” she asked. “Sure thing baby, ” I replied. We repositioned ourselves as Michaela had requested and I immediately recognised why she had.
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Hey, I’ve told the bitch she can call me Sue, let’s see how she like Lucy. “I thought you’d never make it.”“Lucinda.” She immediately let me know that she didn’t. “Of La Familia de San Finzione,” she continued in Italian. “Founding familia of the Sovereign County and Independent Nation-State of San Finzione. Remind me, Susan, dear. What are the Baileys known for again?”“Irish Cream.” I responded in the same tongue. “Also a song about a guy who got out of a bad relationship and needs to tell the singer who keeps promising him the world to come back to fuck off, because people like her never learn anything. We didn’t feel the need to put our name on everything. There’s also a porn actress whom I’m told I kind of look like that uses the name; but if she’s any relation, my parents didn’t tell me before they died.”“Why, I’m so sorry.” Lucinda said in a tone that made it clear that she wasn’t. “I was unaware you were an orphan. It must be horrible not knowing where you are from.”“It can be.

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