”“You did?” I asked. There was something about her admission that was an invitation to share some of the guilt. She wanted to lessen my guilt. B...cause she did love me. Despite the hurtful things I said, she still cared for me. “Like what?”“Dried-up old bitch,” she said. “And stuck-up bitch. And prudish cunt. Joyless hag.”I smiled at her. It made me feel better hearing her words. “Well, I think you know I’m not dried up.”She licked her lips, coated in my pussy juices, and nodded. “You definitely. There was something flowing over my shoulders. I reached over with one of my hands and grabbed what ever it was and examined it. When I did, my leg brushed something fleshy between my legs. I didn't even pretend not to know what it was. I paused, and then reached to touch the flesh on my crotch again without looking at it. It reacted to my touch, becoming just slightly firmer. I could feel the sensation of touch from both points, from the touch of my fingers and from the penis when my hand. More

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