Blake Tudor… of course. Where’s ya ring?’ She showed me a photo on her phone. No ring on her finger, only the phone. The orange lino and beige curtains belonged in the 1970s. The couches were old. The kitchen was modern. It didn’t look like they were in control of the place. ‘So you guys are renting.’ ‘Renting from the bank. That’s us, broke for life.’ ‘Broke together, though. Least you’re married.’ ‘Wasn’t my idea.’ Princess did some sort of tour of the kitchen, pointing out tiles and serving trays and the spot without tiles where Blake’d buried the last male visitor, har-har. She didn’t look at me much. I could tell she was taking unnecessary steps to bring the margarine and onion-flavour dip out. She still had that sexy grace, that magnet field emanating from her pussy, that subtle cheeky smile, and those tits were still there, it’s just that the tits were bigger and flatter. Somethin about her hips too. Wider, with a bit of flesh on them. Four months I was with her, then we were. I finally focused my full attention on her. Though her eyes were just a normal dark brown, I can easily see the passion and confusion in them. What could I do?Why couldn't I have met her sooner, why did everything I want have to be claimed?She raised herself slightly, no longer crosslegged but sitting neatly on her knees. The sleeve of the dress fell and I could see her hard nipples beneath the white fabric. She looked so beautiful... Not just because of how provocative she looked now but just because everything about her shaped her to be so beautiful."Elisa..." I mumbled back. Barely above a whisper but she heard and gave a weak smile. I saw that she was trembling slightly.I took a step forward and she opened her arms. This gave me the motivation to keep moving until her arms were around my waist and her head was gently leaning against my crotch. I knew she could feel my throbbing manhood beneath my jeans.The scene was so intimate, I began losing all of my rightful senses and I took.
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