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" Timothy then called out."And I love you Tim, but I trust your family more, I won't fight your mother to get you... I love her for bringing you into the world." And so unarmed Joyce walked slowly on to Maureen, her arms outstretched.Maureen backed away from Joyce, fear showing in her face, she had expected Joyce to pick up one of the knives, to fight for her love just, as a few of decades ago, she had fought Bartholomew's mother. But this was unnerving; she looked to Sir Bartholomew, "Barty? What do I do?" She said.Veronica felt her body go cold, and then she heard a voice speaking, and was astonished to hear it was hers "Joyce has chosen her weapon, Maureen has to fight her with the same weapon!"Sir Bartholomew looked at Veronica, "What weapon? She's unarmed." He said.Veronica felt her head move to face him, "Grand Marshal, she is using the ultimate weapon she has, Love. Is there anything greater that can stop it?"Sir Bartholomew looked at... no, not Veronica but the person standing. First, though, bring me your laptop, okay?”Nodding, my fingers clutching at the skirt of my dress for some unfathomable reason, I fetched it from the bedroom and handed it over to her before heading for the cupboard.“Password, Jenny.”“I…” clutching an empty wine glass I turned, regarding her, my mouth slightly agape as I met her stare. There was no way I was going to share my password with her, no matter what our relationship. It quickly turned into a battle of will, her eyebrow slowly lifting. I was suddenly aware of the clock – a birthday gift from an Aunt who had gotten it into her head that I was into art deco - ticking ever louder as each second passed.“Password. Pretty please,” Again. This time with more force, her lips forming the shape of kiss with each pronounced ‘p’, her smile wicked and full of cunning.“I am not sharing my password!” The words formed in my head, but refused to come out, instead, I meekly bowed my head, my eyes focusing on her pretty feet resting on a.
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He took all my cum, swallowing it, then licking the rest off my cock. Then it was over, and he stood up, looking embarrassed. His own shorts were wet where he came in them.“This calls for a drink,” I said, stepping out of my shorts and underwear. I opened the sliding glass door, naked from the waist down, went to the kitchen, and poured us each a healthy slug of Jim Beam. I brought our drinks outside, sat down, handed him his, and sipped mine.He took a big swallow of whiskey. His eyes avoided mine. “Any regrets, Jake?” he asked.“None,” I said. I was feeling relaxed, and sexy. “We need to do this more often.”“What would you think about going further?” The alcohol was making him bold. “I want you to fuck me, Jake. I’ve wanted that ever since I first saw you.”“Come over tomorrow night,” I said. “We’ll use the guest bedroom.”“I can’t believe this,” he said. He set down his drink. “Tomorrow, then.” He got up and went home.I sat in the darkness, thinking about what had happened, and could.

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