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Now don’t stop playing with my clit until I pass out.”So I worked on her clit for several minutes more. Fergie was having plenty of orgasms but she wasn’t passing out. Finally I couldn’t take it any longer and I rolled over on top of her and slipped my cock in between her legs. I fucked into her and that’s about all that I remembered until I woke up the next morning that is.As I opened my eyes the room light was too bright so I closed them again. My mouth was dry and I remembered all the gin that I had drank the night before. Then Fergie snuggled into me tighter. I opened my eyes again briefly and saw her face lying on my shoulder. I felt her arm over my chest and I felt her leg over my leg. I even felt her moist pussy rubbing up against my thigh as she slept. It reminded me of a dog dry humping my leg. Fergie was no dog. Then I felt her breast in my hand that was around her head.As I lay there in dreamland somewhere between unconsciousness and consciousness I tried to remember more. She slammed the receiver down, and crawled into bed. She waited in sick fear for the rest of the day. Her schedule ruined, she did nothing, laying in bed shivering.At eight PM on the dot, the white noise began."Nudity is conducive to meditation free of restraint."Talia stripped her clothes off in a blur and dropped naked into her meditation posture. The moment she assumed the position, the clock chimed. As the chime died away, peace and relief poured through her. Her meditation cycle began. As she sat meditating, silent tears of gratitude made their way down her cheeks. That night, her sleep was deep, and her dreams were erotic, but she didn't remember them.The next day at work, she talked with Margaret about what had happened."I'm worried about my clock, Midge." You love that thing, Talia, you act like it's saved your life. I've told you before I think that whole meditation thing is weird. Eastern stuff, you know?" But you know I've always been into that. It's not the meditation..
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“I love you, my precious daughter,” he said.It was well into the morning when I returned to the big house from the bakery. My son had asked me if I’d slept at all. I shook my head and he told me to sit down. All I needed to do was put the heavy trays in the oven. I watched and dozed as he worked, rousing myself enough to help put the trays in or take them out of the oven. I caught snatches of his whispered monologue as I napped, waiting for the other children.“Papa and I are both orphans,” Matthew said. “My daddy died. His daddy died. I love Grandpa Harry. I’m sad he is gone. But when my daddy died, I still had my Papa. Does Papa have a Papa? He needs one now that his daddy is gone.”Rees came in with the kids and cooked breakfast for them.“Rose says we’re taking another week before we return to live broadcasts,” she said. “So I figured I’d come over to cook for my fan club.”“Are all these urchins your fans?” I asked.“Yes! We have a good time, don’t we guys?” All the kids chorused.

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