I happily paid for the drinks as she tried to pay me for hers with me refusing to take her money as I walked away from her while telling her to enjoy ...he night and returned to my table. As I poured myself a glass of wine and passed the bottle to the person next to me, something caught my eye. There she was, two tables away from me directly in my line of sight!How had I not noticed her before? It was just crazy. Then I noticed the guy next to her lean over and whisper in her ear as she held his. If I’d read her expressions correctly, she had come some way towards treating me as a fellow human being. I made a bet with myself that it wasn’t gonna last.That recognition was the red warning light. Once again, I missed it.Monday I scrambled us both some eggs for breakfast, served at the table with pre-cooked packed biscuits. Long-life, so goodness only knows what keeps them fresh. They’re okay as a reserve, but I try not to have them too often. She didn’t comment.I gave her the bucket of. The stiff thing kept pushing, stretching her cunt wider. She gasped in part pain, part pleasure. Just as she felt she would be torn in two, the stretching stopped and the thing slid deeply into her cunt. She gasped in sudden pleasure. The inner walls of her cunt tightly gripped the big thing. It was enough to send her over the brink. She shoved back against it.“Ohhhhh, no, don’t stop – don’t stop! I’m gonna – cum!”Her smooth body jerked on the desk. Her eyes screwed shut, and her lips were. I figgered the slaves would like some privacy for certain times of the month and for when they were big 'n' pregnant later.I was walkin' around, half-listenin' to bedtime chatter and getting' oriented on where everythin' was in the pod. Suddenly it dawned on me that I could hear the lullaby Jean was singing to her kids. Not only could I hear it, but I could understand every word of it, even though she was singin' in Creole. The song was "Farmer John", which my mother had sung to me as a child,.
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