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Absolutely amazing! If only I could make it routine. Guess we will have to see.I woke rather early as the sun still wasn't up yet. My father was passe... out next to me in a drunken c***. Breathing heavily and smelling of gin. I lay next to him still trying to get a grip on what had occurred only a few hours prior. I lifted the blanket to reconfirm that we were still infact naked as if it had all been some twisted little dream. It was wrong what had happened. Like therapy for me, prison for dad. But it's hard to describe how you feel about it when you have your cock in another woman's mouth. It felt like we were both cheating but only I knew about it and I loved it. Of course Anna would have known what I and Susan were up to. John took the glass from my wife and handed her a cigarette. He stood between her legs as she sat on the bed. I was puzzled by what was happening as he offered a light to Anna. Anna placed the cigarette into the flame and exhaled the smoke at John. Susan sat up. He thought what the hell, let’s watch some Cricket highlights. She was cooking lunch and he decided to talk to her a bit as well. She was cutting onions and he went and held her from behind. She smells good, he thought. She was slightly surprised everything ok at breakfast? Yea, you are a great cook saying this he kissed her neck from behind. He felt his member stir in his pants; she had this effect on him every time he went close to her. She moaned from his kiss and rested her head on his. I suppose somewhere in this world, there’s an airport. A hollow, shelled husk of what I’d refer to as an airport. Maybe my friends still exist in some way. Maybe they exist beyond the weakening memories. Do they remember me? Am I just a weak, rough memory for their minds to ponder over, as well? Am I just a wilted, discarded husk in a long since abandoned airport? Sometimes I worry that I’ll never fly again. Sometimes I worry that the clouds will always waltz so high above me, their only.
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