Bringing your head down, you see something that you swear wasn't there just moments ago–a man sitting in a rather regal looking red and black chair,...one leg resting on top of his other knee as he slowly sips from a tall, opaque mug that you can't peer into. Upon seeing that you've finally caught wind of his presence, he chuckles with a light smile. "Good, your eyes still work. Would be a hell of a shame if you suddenly went blind on us. How ya holdin' up, lad?"With an accent of either British. As usual, he was late. ‘Yes?’ Frida’s tinny voice squawked from the intercom. ‘It’s Aaron. Sorry I’m late.’ ‘Just a minute,’ came the reply. He moved to the entry door, expecting the security lock to buzz open. The door remained stubbornly silent, however. He hoped she wasn’t too upset with him. Just when he had the sinking feeling that she might cancel, he saw someone walking down the hallway. Frida pushed open the door and stepped into the entryway. ‘Uh, hi,’ he stammered. Once again, his. While still in a euphoric stupor, I felt my knees starting to buckle, so as carefully as I could I backpedalled toward the bed and when I felt the back of my thighs hit the mattress, fell over backwards with Katie still impaled on my cock. As I lay in this position she pushed herself up off my chest and shoulders, smiled, and bounced up and down on my cock a few times, before collapsing onto me. As we lay there, neither of us fully on the bed but supported by it, and giggling and cooing, there. Excellent feeling. Shit, it’s been a while, I guess. I been raking over old memories, how I got to be here, price I paid. Hell, other people paid way more, and there are days I feel kinda glum about that. The way I did it, I mean. But my life is pretty good: no stress to speak of, regular pussy, enough money to live comfortable. Slackers’ paradise and then some. Tell the truth, I had the chance to start over, I’d probably do the same. Said right at the beginning I was selfish, remember? I.
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