She nodded again, got up, walked over to me and kissed me, holding one hand to my face, and the hand she used to masturbate to my crotch, it still war... and wet.She whispered, “Seven o’ clock.”I was there. I wore a black suit and tie, with a white shirt, black shoes, and even a rose.I was at my table about 6:55 and she came a little bit late, but that’s fine.She came in stunningly. She was wearing a red dress and had red gloves on.The dress fitted nicely to her body, and pushed her breasts firm. Sometimes Fiona wondered if she should feel bad, but for whatever reason, she couldn't. Not in the way that would make her regret anyway. Those few fleeting moments of feeling guilty somehow just increased the intensity levels and made her orgasms stronger.Someone had once told her that guilt could be intoxicating and addicting. She had laughed but now she understood and even wished she could somehow feel worse.She tried to think back to the early days with Sean. Picnics in the park and holding. More

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