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I never watch when her husband is home. I’m afraid I’ll feel jealous. I don’t want it to get complicated. I just want to be able to be grateful for what I get, every other week.As I walk to the station, I’m consumed with anticipation. This is a new development. Previously we’ve only ever met at the house. Yesterday I went over and sat in the chair Catherine provides for me and wanked off while she performed in front of her laptop, emptying my balls into the tumbler she also provides. It was an ordinary session. (Always depending on your definition of ordinary, I suppose.)But ten days ago, she said we’d become better acquainted, and I’m thrilled at what she might have in mind, though I have no idea. I daren’t even speculate. She said it right after she encouraged me to cum on her tits and rubbed my spunk into them. She’s a very kinky lady, is Catherine, and I’d be happy just to watch her. The thought that she might have something more in mind is mind-blowing.I find the blue Renault. I had to make a choice. I waited, my heart desired to soar in blue-green skies. My sensibility longed for the firm foundation beneath my feet. I felt trapped and caught in the middle, between desire and survival. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the gale of winter crept in from the north, but was there was no way for me to soar in the shadow of the tower. The days that followed were spent in deep contemplation. During that time, the summer breezes cooled. I waited for the invitation to walk in the lush garden and take my rightful place at the head of the banquet, but there was none. Slowly, I began to realize, perhaps many shared the banquet. The thought chilled me worse than the winters ever had. I sat by the hearth in an attempt to absorb its warmth, trying to thaw my frozen heart. He tried to help me, but he could not comprehend my agony. In stony silence, he waited, watching as I cowered in his shadow, shivering against the cold. Time passed and I began to understand my.
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