..” I said, trying not to sound disappointed. She looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.I was pretty sure that I had figured out her game. S...e was a misandrist. It had nothing to do with Ed, or with me, Wendy simply hated men. She enjoyed seeing us disappointed and hurting us. The more I thought about it, the more I saw through her game.Ed had been smitten with the bitch from jump street. She had built up his affection to the point where she was satisfied and then dumped him without. He grabbed her chin, and forced her to look up at him. "You didn't because you like me taking control of that little pussy," he said before kissing her hard. His tongue forcefully made it's way into her mouth and began swirling around hers . His hand skillfully slipped up her shirt and under her bra, and began pinching her erect nipples roughly. Lisa moaned through the kiss and pushed herself into him, feeling his rod already hard through his suit. Finally Rogue broke the kiss. He went and sat. I considered the small skinny Italian eggplant. It had a slightly bulbous end to it, just the right length and girth to my horny mind.Feeling naughty, I stroked myself with the end of the eggplant. The first contact with my lips shocked me at first as it was still cold, but it gradually warmed with a few strokes that were lubricated by my juice. I briefly considered that I was going to feed this to my family, and thought it would be poetic if my husband were to unknowingly eat it. I leaned over. Is that not what old men do? Reminisce about the past and think of the way things might have been. I spent the first 30 years of my life believing that I would always be alone. I dreamt of a life that could have been, but thankfully, was not. I dreamt that I ran away from home before my mother and I reconciled and that gypsies trapped me and held me in a cage. I dreamt that they put me on display and called me, "The Devil's Child." I still remember the dreams quite plainly. My keeper beat me.
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