She’d never met Rozelle, but she knew what it was like to lose someone. She’d lost her dad to war when she was little: that was twenty-six years g...ne. It was something that she’d never forget either even though she’d barely had a chance to even see his face: she’d been but five years old at the time.It was late afternoon, and it was Sunday. They pulled up in a local cab and came inside the darkened bar. It was February and the weather was unseasonably cool, but not too bad. The newcomers, three. While he played with her nub, Elena rubbed the length of her wet pussy along his pole. “The canoe.” “Forget it.” Adrian sat forward, straining to meet her lips. He crunched his abs, bending, he was the picture of male perfection. Dark hairs on his chest accentuated the finely honed muscle. Elena took his tongue gratefully, accepting her cue to quit talking. Playfully, she hopped off him, her knees sinking into the river sand. She grabbed at her singlet, twisting its moisture onto his penis,. More

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