I thanked God… It’s been four years since then, and you know I know it’s time to start begging again. But Ian, I don’t think it will help. The coffee is getting cold like it always does when I’m typing away at my computer. You never seem to mind though, wrapped up in your own thoughts as you ask, ‘Want another cup?’ How different we are and how quiet the same. Your detachment almost complimentary to mine, even after all these years. Should we call it love? Why not? Yes, you always have a funny way of putting things, too. You’re funny. You always have a way of putting a smile on my face, knowing exactly how to pull my leg, massage my ego or perhaps break my heart. For a long time I didn’t know what it felt like to be without you. But now Ian. We are alone. And soon it will all stop. No more greeting cards. No more me nor you. So stop thanking some poor man who got nailed to death some thousands of years ago! You always laugh at the way I throw away greeting cards without opening. She was dripping juice and my face was soon covered. My tool was begging for relief and as I licked her hole and clit I shot my wad deep into Angela's throat. Angela carried on sucking my tool and until I went soft. I lay back on the bed to recover and she slid off the bed and went to her bedside cabinet. She took out her favourite vibrator and smoothered her arse and pussy with lube. My cock was starting to show signs of life again as I gently pulled my foreskin backwards and forwards over my helmet. Angela got onto all fours and pulled her skirt up again to expose her hot pussy framed by her split crutch pants. She parted her legs and rubbed her vibrating toy against her clit and love lips. She was soon ready to cum again, and she slipped the powerful dong in and out of her pussy she arched her back and let out a squirt of juice as she reached her orgasm. I was rock hard and needed more relief. I positioned myself behind her. She held the vibrator deep in her pussy and I nudged her.
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