Oh fuck. Right, fuck it. There was nothing I could do about it. He knew how I felt and I can’t help the way I feel. I was in love with him and that ...as that. Really, I should just walk back in the pub, sit down and say to him, “It’s true. I’m in love with you.” But I couldn’t. No way couldn’t. No way could I do that. There was no way I could ever look at him again, now that he knew how I felt. I took a deep breath. Right, just walk out of the toilets and walk out of the pub. I’d probably never. But then decided that he was having too much fun and I didn't need to be a prude and spoil his fun.I was in one of those moods the next day, horny as hell, still thinking about Jim fucking his young cousin when I saw the man who cuts our lawn outside without his shirt on. I still had on my housecoat with nothing on underneath since I slept nude every night. He had big muscles and I was getting wet just watching him trim the hedges. I had never had a black cock but had fantasized about it. I was. More

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