She sits on the floor helpless and hopeless until a knock on the door, “Michelle, I’ve brought a pot of tea, I would like to...”“Fuck off you bitch, you tricked me. You know I didn’t want this shit, fuck off and leave me alone.”“Suit yourself,”Michelle does not miss the irritation in her words and the observance gives her a small reason to smile. “Good, hope I really pissed off the bitch,” and she wonders what the time is, the only clock she has seen in the house is the one in the office earlier.For some reason the short interaction with the woman gives her the impetus, to stand to go and sit at the window and face the cheerfulness outside. Her thoughts leaping all over the place, memories and regrets jump back and forth try to drag her deeper into despair and then a thought will make her smile, such as the memory of the little man standing up to Mark in the pub on Saturday.There are no more knocks on the door, yet she does neither notice nor care. She sits and watches, hardly even. ‘Hi, Momma,’ she purred as my hand stroked up her soft, brown belly—past the belly-button piercing (her current choice: a golden snake weaving out of both sides of the piercing, its tail wrapped around a glimmering emerald gem) and up to cup one smooth, full breast with their reddish-brown, perky nipples. I was pressing my mons against her gorgeous ass. Touching her like this was already making me wet. I loved her slight accent, still distinct—and to me, sexy—after all these years of living in Canada.‘My sweet kitten,’ I murmured into her ear, gently nibbling on her ear as the hand that was not busy stroking her breast moved down to part the curly black nest of hair between her legs and split her pussy lips apart with my finger. I swirled my thumb teasingly around her little clit, just enough that she whimpered and moved her hips against my hand—before I took my hands away and let my girlfriend turn to face me in my arms. She wrapped her own around my neck, arms still covered in faint.
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