I deserve something for myself don’t I? Adam thought. He shook his head. This wasn’t the place for such thoughts.
Subdued notes from the chapels bronze-cast pipe organ drifted dryly around the room, almost as dry as the fossil stroking they keys. “She’s more hairspray now than man,” he said in his best Vader voice. A sharp pain stabbed his side at roughly the same height and shape as his wife’s elbow.
“She’s 85. I hope you won’t be talking about me like that when I’m her age,” she said. Or what? He thought, you’ll not have sex with me for years at a time instead of months? His eyes drifted back to where Mrs. Lewis was sitting with her daughter. Lory was her name, though it felt odd to say it. Everyone here called each other brother or sister, as if entering the building was akin to traveling back in time to the 1700’s.
Big titty Lory, and her small tittied daughter. Roughly the same height, they both oozed sexiness, it was more than Adam could take most sundays. Normally ending with an early exit to go jerk off at home.