One early September afternoon Batschka fretted in the outer reception area of the Directorate Offices, waiting for her to emerge from a last-minute me...ting with Comrade Director Makoyev before catching the People's Transportation to their apartment. Last-minute meetings with the Comrade Director were invariably bad news, and he worried that the absolute love of his life might somehow be in trouble. When she finally emerged from the conference room, she had a worried frown creasing her beautiful. She had always been sure, confident in her beauty, strong in being a woman. Now she felt empty, wondering if she was adequate.Her husband had discovered after years together that she was not woman enough for him. She felt herself shrivel inside, wondering how she could expect any man to find her attractive.But the masculine beauty of Duncan drove those thoughts from her mind. The hard plane of his chest, dusted with sparse fur in patterns. Her eyes drifted down the strength of his body,. She purred and wriggled. He stroked with a feather-light touch and began to feel a bump growing on the far side of her love hole. It was her precious jewel. As his finger circled again, stroking the bump and tickling playfully, her warm love juice oozed onto his legs. Her bottom was now moving rhythmically. He loved the sight but paused. She kept wriggling. He pressed the side of his hand firmly against her cunt and held it still. She became restless, pushing and rubbing his hand, her bum. We caught up on old times a little. When we got there, the place was as idyllic and peaceful as ever. The place was as green with woodland growth as any place on earth. With the blue sky and warm sun overhead, and the green grass underfoot, the place was friendly and warm and inviting. When we parked the car, we walked down to the bank of the stream, and sat down. We each opened a beer and leaned back in the grass. Ben pulled out a joint and lit it. We lay in the sun and watched as the clouds.
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