She had forgotten her salad bowl. She stood at the gate, biting her lower lip, frozen, and unable to move. There was her salad bowl on the bench of th... picnic table just below your thigh. The same thigh that was wrapped tightly around my naked, thrusting ass. The bowl was daring her, "Come Marsha, come and take me. I'm right here." A light wind blew the smell of our sex in her direction. She held on to a post, steadying her weak knees. Her fingers, worked themselves into her jeans and she found. Today he was feeling somewhat restless. Not uneasy -- at forty-three years old, he had a confidence in himself that few men his age possessed. He had a successful career (although not in botany -- that was a hobby), was well off and, he'd been told, wasn't bad looking either. At least, that's what the occasional lover told him. He never stayed with anyone too long because there had always been something lacking in those relationships. Something he couldn't quite define."Hey, you going to stand. He had never wanted children or a family, he always wanted a career, but after such a tumultuous relationship with a superficial bitch with slivers of stone imbedded in her dead heart, and the news that she was pregnant, he was ready for a change. For the first time in his life, his career was the last thing on his mind. His father had been a bastard on his best days, and gone the rest of the time. Brad had learned early in life that he had only himself to count on, and he had always liked it. "Yes, I suppose you should get used to it," she said, a trace ofsympathy in her voice.My mouth felt furry and I croaked for another drink. "So this is how..."I had to stop. My voice was hoarse and I now spoke with a deep timbre."This is how men are. I've had instructions, but seeing the real thingis..... shocking." Yes, quite different from women, aren't they!"I wiped my eyes and lay back in my misery. To think that I had to endureall of this for a year! Taking a deep breath, I struggled to sit.
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