"Ryan! Don't you ignore me now! You've gone too far just to pretend nothing ever happened! If you don't answer me, I swear I'm coming up!" Oh fuck, ... thought. Considering everything else she'd done, I had no doubt that she would. I brought the phone back up and tried to calm her down. "No, don't do that. I'll be right down. We need to talk about this anyway." "Thanks sweetie" she said with a kindness that verged on sarcasm. "Don't make me wait, okay? You've only got an hour for lunch you. I saw her sideways turned figure meaning I’d also seen her robust looking boobs and flat tummy. I do not remember any of the words I used but I will say this. I was not disenchanted by this woman’s figure at all. No, I was not. However, just then, I realized I was making a huge, and I mean huge mistake, and all this occurred in matter of seconds. I realized, in that matter of seconds, seeing as both of us were standing by our respective windows, the garage light on me and her dim light on her. I brought Shelly’s head up and gently pushed her so she was lying flat on her back and I then climbed between her legs. Brad and I then started to pound the cunts of our women. This was what Saturday mornings were made for.Brad started at a reasonable pace (as much as I could get any focus on what he was doing as I was focussed on giving Shelly an enjoyable and pleasing fuck). I was enjoying the feeling of fucking Shelly – her cunt was very tight and gripped my prick as it moved in and out of. ‘Where does the shell come from?’ I ask.Granny leans closer, breaks a piece of currant cake in half and puts it into my mouth. The rest she chews herself and she looks over my head, out the window into Whitehall, as if she has forgotten me.‘The shell, Granny?’‘Well, girleen, that’s the most peculiar thing of all. That shell you came from grew like a fruit on the branch of a noble tree that stood by the Galway Bay shoreline. The shell-fruit got heavier and heavier until it dropped into the sea..
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