And everything changed. I got to the house, and to make things easier, he was cooking dinner. I helped, happy for the opportunity to avoid an uncomfortable silence. We cooked, his kitchen not small enough to constantly run into him physically. We talked as little as possible, the air charged with the tension from our previous arguments. We both had much to say, but neither knew how to begin, nor what to say. We sat down to dinner, he is a fabulous cook. We talked over the pleasantries of work and daily life, avoiding looking at each other’s eyes for very long. After taking a bit of my meal, I put my wrist on the edge of the table, and his hand covered it. ‘You are my closest friend. And this whole argument is just killing me.’ I looked up, and saw the pain of the last week written in his face. ‘ Can we just go back to the way things used to be?’ he asked me. He picked up my hand, and led me away from the table. We went into the living room, and he pulled me down to sit on the couch. As she sank down on my lance, she sighed, "Aaahhhh, yyyeeeeesssssss."My own bliss was cut a little short as her hands clasped the back of my head and pulled me to her... right into the massive pillows of her breasts. It was like having my face pressed into a huge feather pillow, where the puffiness of the pillow billowed around me, providing a wonderfully soft landing place... but cutting off all air.I struggled and huffed and puffed until I felt myself growing faint. Suddenly she seemed to realize what was happening. Her hands relaxed and she turned my face upward. I gulped in fresh air gratefully.She said, "Sorry, sugar, guess mama just got "carrot" away. Come on, now, poke me with yore broom handle."Slowly I began moving, generating a pathetic fucking motion but managing some friction between us. If it hadn't been for the brick wall, I would never have been able to stop her descents but it was just enough help that I could manage to keep going... until she began to feel it.My.
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