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I am not my mother. I care little for such formalities. As the tired warrior climbed to his feet, the candle behind them guttered, as if disturbed by some sudden and sharp wind, then steadied again. The young noblewoman gazed upon him now in his full height, and seemed suddenly wrong-footed by his stature. He was close against her and, standing now, towered over her. She was a slim and slender thing, dainty and pretty, barely more than a teenager, and with the coltish air of youth still about. It puckered in and out, beckoning for more oral attention. “Please...” she begged me, the rest of her words lost in a mindless slur of passion. I pressed my lips back against the gaping pucker of her pooper, probing my tongue in deep. She bucked energetically in response, her blonde hair whipping enthusiastically. I popped my oral digit in and out of her open asshole in rapid succession, and her frantic squirming became ever more desperate. Extending my tongue as far I could, I buried it deep. Then it was just a case of easing it in, giving her time to adjust, until the mushroom head was snug against her cervix. I just knew that she’d be pregnant by tomorrow morning – I knew the code she and Liz used on the kitchen calendar for when their periods were due (remarkably synchronised), and thus when they were at the peak of their fertility. Within 24 hours, both women could be carrying my child.That’ll take some explaining to the chaps at the golf club, I thought.Becky clamped her long,. We'd walked to class talking about this and that, content just to be together. I had an epiphany, sitting there at the table, when I realized that neither 'normal' nor 'less turbulent' were exactly right. 'Happy, ' however, was the perfect word. I was happy once again.So I was smiling when Kenny walked up to the table. "Don't know why you're so happy, Robinson. We've been abandoned," Kenny said as he plopped down across from me at the lunch table. When I looked questioningly at him, he nodded.
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