Yup Valentine’s Day could become one of my big ones.I rolled out of bed to go to the bathroom and returned to find three women pretending to be asle...ep. How did I know they were pretending? Because they had all changed from the cuddling entanglement that were in when I left and now they were side by side on their back with their legs splayed out wide.“Good morning my loves.”“Happy Valentine’s Day!”They began to hump their hips and giggle.“Come on, Lover. Give us a Valentine’s Day good. No, I'm mostly alright, it just hurts to talk."That might work. A long as I was slick with what I said. Only part ofthe distinctiveness of a person's voice is in the way they sound. Therest is about how they talk. Of course, my mouth was shaped a good dealdifferent than it had been yesterday, too. Still. It *might* work.I glanced up and down the street again, paying particular attention tohouse windows, then stepped out from behind my tree. Lets do this.I tried to look nonchalant as I walked. "Mama!" she said, so he picked her up and handed her to Shahia.Lisa's eyes were boggling. Chris could read her mind. He went to explain, but no, this was Shahia's story."Lisa, this is Maria. She'll come and go while I tell my story."She took a deep breath. "My father's name was Hassan Esfahani. He was born in Yazd, a city in Iran, a Persian Shiite Muslim, poor as dirt. He went to Cairo University to study commerce on an Iranian government scholarship. My mother's name was Georgette Baracat,. As Eric laid out a blanket, I watched Janice and hubby move their chairs next to each other, pour themselves another wine, and ready themselves for the show. You would think they were at the movie house, waiting for the feature presentation to begin.Eric beckoned me to join him, taking my hand and leading me over to the blanket. Once there, he took me in his arms and began kissing my neck. As his hands slipped to my ass, he pulled me tight against his body and his engorged cock. I could feel.