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I had been noticing little things that weren’t quite right all along, but put them down to things changing because I had been away from home so long, but what I was seeing now … this … was just … wrong. I had come to the crossing of Blanched Creek, but where was the bridge that my dad and uncles built when I was just 10? There was no sign it had been washed away in a flood. In fact, it looked like it had never even been there in the first place. The road just headed straight into the ford. And… now that I was paying closer attention, where were all the fences that I had spent so much time as a kid repairing? Well, maybe the bridge had been washed out and the fences fallen down to disrepair, but none of my family had ever mentioned the place being in this kind of shape and I had been over that bridge not all that long ago on one of my infrequent visits home. Thinking the folks at home probably had a simple answer, I figured I would leave the road and take a short cut through the old. As she regained her senses, Christina pulled herself up to her knees on the bed, and motioned for me to do the same. She slowly moved her tongue over my face, licking up her stray juices, and I pulled her as close to me as I could, pressing our breasts together and grinding my hips into hers. I lost track of where Dick had gone – whether he was still on the bed or somewhere else in the room – but I could hear his moans of satisfaction as he watched us. I couldn’t believe how hot she was – my roommate and old friend – and I was beginning to lose myself in this moment, forgetting my original fantasy about a strange man’s cock deep in my pussy and enjoying the feelings of my body pressed against another woman’s. But Dick was still there, and he wanted to finish what he had started with both of us. ‘Are you ready for me to fuck you? Both of you, together?’ ‘Which one of us do you want first?’ I asked in the flirtiest, sluttiest voice I could manage. ‘Oh, I’ll take you both at the same.
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