It was so thick and copious. Annette watched as the gel like fluid slowly slid down Nicole’s face past her cheeks and over her lips and ended up in ... mess on the floor between her slightly parted knees.Just then Annette heard the mystery guy that she didn't recognize pipe up from out of a shadow. She could hear his tormented moaning growing rapidly as if he hated cumming or something. The figure stepped forward and was ready to dump his filthy gift all over Nicole's pretty body as the rest of. I was intrigued, but wary, as I did not know Margetta’s whole story.After getting all of the family gossip from my mother. I called Marge the next evening and we talked for a few minutes. I asked if I could meet her somewhere for coffee. She said she would like that. She added that she was living with her mother and ‘Gramma’ loved looking after Jack.Over coffee, we told each other our life stories. I explained that I had graduated early, and had finished a technical college associate degree. . or worse. How could I have been so wrong about her? Still, she had the look of sorrow in her eyes for what she was doing to me.Then I felt both of her small hands on either side of my cheeks. She pursed her lips to kiss me, and drew me to her. Was this some sort of sex game, I wondered. I felt her plump lips upon mine, and closed my eyes. I fell into her . . . into those lips. I fell into darkness.**********Each morning, as I drift in that ethereal limbo that lies between wakefulness. “Forgiveness should be for a mistake. Not a deliberate action!”“People make mistakes all the time,” responded Isobel, warming to the defence of her statement.“Once! They make a mistake once! The expectation of a different result from a precisely repeated action is not only meaningless, it’s stupid! If you keep doing the same thing over and over, it’s not a mistake, it’s deliberate.”I had to smile approvingly at Melanie, as she’d repeated word-for-word what I had tried to teach them on that.
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