“Besides, I need to get a sewious pump every day.”Sean smiled warmly at the stocky little girl with the frizzy orange hair. I knew he would get a ...ick out of her. Sadly, the feeling wasn’t mutual. She scowled up at him. “Becky,” I said. “I find it strange that you don’t have an interest in artistic pursuits. Most gifted young women have a creative streak.”“Art is for nerds,” Becky said, inspecting the two punching bags that hung from the ceiling.Sean laughed at that comment, no doubt amused to. His tongue delved under my own, and I found myself mewing as it was at once pleasurable and somehow captivating. His kiss, a simply kiss, was delving deeper into my mind than if his fingers had reached through my vagina and caressed my soul. My arms felt weak, and fell back, limp, as the kiss went on, and I began to really return the lashing of our tongues. I was no longer into the story, into the father of my baby, I was into him. I was finding myself falling more and more under his spell, or. More

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