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Ruth was carrying her bags. They were trying to talk to each other. The little Russian he had learned from Nadia and the little English Petra had learned from her friend, was just enough, along with some pantomime, to communicate on a surprisingly high level. At least that's what it looked like, based on the head nods and smiles they were exchanging. Just what they were communicating about was a mystery, but Bob was sure it would all come out eventually."You know what I mean." She looked past him to Nadia. "Where did he learn that Russian?"She shook her head. "I don't know. I've taught him a little bit, but not like that. The accent was western, from someplace like Novgorod. I think he memorized it, but I don't know who taught it to him." Did you ask him to marry you? Did you put him up to this?" Molly's voice sounded tight and stressed."Molly, stop that," Bob growled."No! I told you he hadn't asked me. He still hasn't asked me. He asked my mother, but not me!" We men are impulsive. After, instead of letting her dress, he took off her dress and then her bra. She’d not been appraised for many a year and wasn’t sure she liked it, until she saw his unalloyed delight. She let his fingers walk where they wanted and he experimented with her other hole. He never tried to fuck her there, though. He did ask if he could wash her, so they showered together, she washed him and he washed her and then she found a slithery, solid penis penetrating her from behind, and two soapy fingers up her arse. She pulled out his fingers and sucked them and he let fly inside her again. Then she soaped up her fingers and fingered his arse. He confessed that if he hadn’t just come the feeling of her digits inside him would have made him blow his top. He wouldn’t let her dress. She had to stand in the kitchen, totally naked, making coffee; knowing that a neighbour in their spare room could look in and see her (and not knowing that the darkened room opposite did indeed harbour a man of fifty.
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