Afterwards she’d write. Not always, but usually, leaving me to my craft. The painting was coming along. After all, I was playing house with the insp...ration. Also, in the back of my mind, I was aware that there was a deadline. She would move on at some point. When? I had no idea. Neither did she, I don’t think, but I wanted to finish it before she did. I wanted to share it with her before she left…If you’re wondering, I wasn’t in love with her. A little infatuated, perhaps, but I was no longer. She continued her story as she undressed. "I couldn't bring myself to cry. Our lawyers pushed a grief counselor at me, and after I shocked her by telling her all of the insane things I had let him do to me, she suggested that I needed to find a way to let those feeling go so I could mourn him properly." Her tiny hands caressed my stomach and then cradled my cock. She straddled my chest, with her knees in close by my ribs. I could only imagine that her pussy was hovering over my mouth, and her. More

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