Bhabhi

She was wearing a perfume which I had got a scentof before when she was dressed up. I worked at getting my tongueback to its normal size and hoped it would stay in my mouth and not sneek down to her pussy of it's own volition. I noticedI was licking my lips to much as we sipped on Strawberry Daiquari'sJessica had always been so easy to talk with. It is not alwayseasy for a forty plus year old guy and a twenty-two year old woman to talk for more then a few minutes. We were there for over an hour.I told her I would be in town for a few weeks, told her my hoteland room number. I knew she was not going to look me up though. Hell, why should she. I was just someone from her hometown. No onereally. When she said she had to go. I said I had to leave also. If she wasnot there, there was no reason for staying. I did not say that though. I insisted on paying for all of the drinks and she readily let me do that. I know she expected me to. I learned she was good at sizing up people, especially. "Yes?" she asked."Police, ma'am," said one of the two uniformed officers. "Are you Mrs. Akers? Mrs. Kerri Akers?" Yes, what is it officers?" she said wondering if they had somehow found out and come to arrest her for prostitution."Could we come in?" Yes. Yes, or course," she said swinging the door open and admitting them into the small front hall."Ma'am, I'm afraid we have some bad news, some very bad news." It's Kyle isn't it?" she cried, her heart already in sympathy with the young man who had defiled and prostituted her."Yes Ma'am. There's been a shooting." Is he all right? Is he hurt?" she asked urgently her heart in her throat."Ma'am, I'm sorry. Your son is dead."The reality hit her like a sledge. The last single vestige of a reason to live had, in that handful of words, been taken from her. He was gone. The one small light that remained in her life. Despite his actions and words, he was her son. He was of her body and carried in him, a part of her, a part that could yet have.
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