Not knowing what to do... I locked the door and I started to dial 911, but I was so nervous I kept dropping the damn phone!"Mary Deanna... open the door," he said after finding it locked.His voice sounded normal, composed... should I, I thought? I put down the phone and walked over to the door and unlocked it and stood back, not knowing if I was going to die or ...? Joe walked in slowly, a sheepish look on his face, hurt in his eyes, a droop to his once proud shoulders, a droop that would last for a long time."I, I, I, I'm sorry," he stammered. I am so sorry, Mary Deanna. Please, please forgive me." Then he was on his knees, tears streaming from his eyes, his a face again contorted but this time with remorse and shame from memory of how he had struck me. My heart melted. I walked over to him and held his head against my stomach, my breasts just resting on the top of his head. Joe cried for 10 minutes, holding on to me tightly, his hands digging into my ass cheeks. He begged me not to. My skirt gave reasonable cover to anyone passing close enough who we might not notice and the missing panties allowed me to slide down on him as soon as I was able to force his clothing aside. I felt him tense, relax, and tense again as his cock slid all the way in. I leaned back slightly and his hands captured my shoulders to allow distance between us but only at the top. I worked my hips on his as my body leaned back. The stretching created ripples in my stomach that made breathing difficult and my breath became short as I began to inhale and exhale in the same rhythm as the grind. We moved this way for a lifetime, for a minute, for an immeasurable passage of time. The only indicator of its passing was the building heat, his racing pulse that I felt over every inch of his skin and his ever-changing stream of words captured by my brain as I struggled to remember everything. We raced together for a moment more and then, hands clasped, fingers laced, we fell together into the rolling.
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