” She breathes into my ear.“Not quite yet,” I cheekily say, hoping it will spur her on to rub me further with her crotch.Emmy pulls back and looks at me with a cheeky grin across her face. She knows I am no longer cold and I was just encouraging her to go on. What I don’t know is what that cheeky grin is really for.“Well, if that didn’t work, Humph, then I am going to have to go to a little bit further to sort you out because I want you hot and ready when we get back to yours,” Emmy says with a hint of wryness.I can feel Emmy's thighs tighten their grip on the side of my hips and her crotch press harder against mine. She pulls me closer into a hug with her head on my shoulder and she says to me with a husky whimper, “I am going to piss on you, Humphry. I am going to piss on your cum soaked pantied up cock.”I have absolutely no time to say or do anything as I immediately feel a hot, wet flood engulf the entire front of my crotch. It feels glorious. I am entirely at Emmy’s mercy once. That was day. Night was eleven hours, it began with comedy, continued with good food, and flowered into intimacy in the front seat of my car. Two people connected in such a way that the outside world, both good and bad, was completely left behind. The only intrusion was from a single, friendly cat… And even he (or she) was a point of bonding between me and the girl. The night was a poem written by smiles and kisses, peppered by laughter and purring. Two people reached out to each other, for comfort, for solace, for something… And they got it. How to reconcile the two parts to one day? Both were different worlds. One was empathy, the other intimacy. One was global horror, the other personal bliss. The two pieces of one span of time were as different from each other as the night and day that separated them. A curious sense of guilt wormed its way into my consciousness, it was quickly stamped out by common sense. Yes, the tragedy is beyond description. Yes, the words and images still.
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