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Gwen was now near the door. She turned to say a few more things inthat quiet, gentle way of hers. "You know, Dana, you might thinkof sharing more of yourself with Alice. You're a littleself-centered -- no, let's face it, that's all you are -- but youdid become a fine lover once I taught you to feel more ... tendertoward me. To be concerned for me. To care. I think you mighteven have been in love with me for a while. Even last night, theway Harry always is whenever I do things to him. I even enjoyedthat fat four-incher you think is God's gift, once I learned not totry to ride it up and down but to roll you around by it, and toclamp it down whenever you tried to move it in or out. And yourmouth is heavenly. If you weren't so cock sure of yourself andalways on the make to stick it into some hapless girl, you'd havewomen lined up around the block eager to feel your tongue push itselfinto their most secret places."I now had nothing further to say. There was nothing more for me. Seconds later, steam arose from under her large white butt and I altered my stance to allow me a better look. I was maybe six feet away and could see the gusher of urine. I love that sight, whatever their age and I slipped my zip down, dropped my jeans a couple of inches and my cock rose hard in my hand with a few strokes.I hadn’t had a good fuck for a couple of weeks now, so wanking was my usual outlet while seated in front of the computer, often watching voyeur videos of just such a scene and being amazed at how the guys with the cameras capture the views. Many of them were from Eastern Europe, primitive areas behind wedding halls in some cases. Even the brides in all their white finery had to resort to the bushes for a piss. A scenario started to whirr through my dirty mind. Her husband was dead and looked like he was taking a snooze if anybody looked at him. She didn’t know he was dead and was just so relieved to empty her bladder. There had been no one around when I followed.
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