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That kinda offense would have never hurt me.After the bath, we dried the bodies of each other, got back dressed in some of his suits, because I did not have much of my own here, and went downstairs.-so…what do we do now? I guess we should eat anywayWhile we were eating, I was feeling horny again. I rubbed my calf against his. He was a little taken aback, but he also started rubbing back on me. Our eyes were on the food, but our legs were cuddling those of each other. But we finished eating without talking.After meal, we washed the dishes and went back to our bedroom for a nap. He seemed a bit lazy right then. I doubted if I can really call him for sex. But I wanted sex anyway. I was horny as always.But I wanted to straddle. For a while, he has taught me many sex positions and almost all of them were him riding me. Actually, I was the driving factor in those cases…literally!Once we came to the nap, he cuddled me into him and gave me the word I wanted.-it is 6.30 now. You can be. I’m so wet,” I softly begged. He stood up, grabbed my shoulders hard, and spun me around. Bent at the waist, my ass exposed, my face pressed inches away from where my ass leaked on my desk calendar. My abandoned chicken salad mocked me as I stood patiently while he unbuttoned his pants. I heard his belt drop to the floor and another slick gush oozed from my pussy. Good. I depended on that. Gripping my hips firmly with both of his hands, he lined his cock to my core and it slid in like it always lived there. My knees bailed on me and I got weak with the first stroke. “Hold still, let me in,” his urgent voice grunted. “Mmm, ahhh, I like that,” I cooed. He pulled out and eased his cock back in further. “You are so tight, damn girl.” Slowly, rhythmically, and silently, we began to fuck in sync. His gyrating hips were crushed against my ass with at least an eight inch cock buried between us. His thrusts were strong and unapologetic and I am sure that he had completed his own version of.
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You can write, and you can type. The words hit Nathan like a blow. He was as unaware of the existence of blind people as anyone, he remembered that the doctors had mentioned reading, but it hadn’t sunk in properly. He is excited, but apprehensive, he never liked reading, before. He wasn’t any good at it in school. Over the next few weeks, the blind man returns. Sometimes his mother brings him, others, Chantelle drops him off. Nathan can find his way around his home, easily. It became almost easy to picture the room as it was, how it would have looked if he could see it, that realisation surprised him by the lack of bitterness that accompanied it. He could find a milk bottle by feeling the texture of the bottle, herbs by their smell. The blind man had supplied him with little stickers, which Chantelle had put on the keys of the microwave, so when he felt them he knew what number he had, which setting he found. And he could read them, with ever growing ease. That he found it.

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