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Now that,” of another dish she was sampling, “is pon-sit. The Greek gods ate ambrosia ‘cause nobody on Mount Olympus could make pon-sit.”It was delicious. The whole meal was delicious. “Want dessert?” he asked at the end.Well, yes. But she didn’t want ice cream. She wanted some more of his delicious kisses. “No. Want me to take the coffee while you clean up?”“That would be kind of you.”He had two nightstands, one on either side of a twin bed. She put a cup on each and went back for the pot. It went on the nightstand with his cup. She was still wearing the clunky shoes. She wore them to the church and changed there on Sundays. She slipped them off now. She sat against the headboard.“Jen,” he called from the living room. A minute later, he looked in the doorway. There weren’t a hell of a lot of places to look in the apartment. He quirked an eyebrow but made no verbal comment. He sat against the headboard on the right side. There wasn’t much room, but she didn’t want more. “My cup?” he. .. I had to shake my head - such drama! Was I really thinkingall that shit? Stealthy? My panty covered ass swished against Brad'sshirt ? yeah, real stealthy! This is some funny stuff I'm thinking andhonestly it made me want to gag. I shuddered once more before enteringthe bathroom and closed the door with barely a click to announce myentombment. Yeah, there's a thought - I ain't coming out until I looklike me! Rachel is now "entombed". Better probably to mummify myself thanbe seen like this I reconsidered.A mild bit of swelling of my little boy's clit was beginning to make astatement and I turned to the toilet, lifting off Brad's clothes he musthave laid over the seat before coming to bed and placed them on theoverflowing laundry hamper. Guess I should do some laundry, eh? I liftedthe lid and sat, gathering up Brad's shirt I was wearing as a steadystream gurgled into the bowl. Ah! Relief! When I was done I dabbed withtoilet paper, but skipped the flush so as not to make any.
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