But in the end, I came no closer to understanding that night than so many of my colleagues before me. I would never be the one to solve this mystery.H...ere, surrounded by Rokkenjima books and related paraphernalia, I can be proud of one thing:I love the characters in this story more than anyone.That might sound conceited to you, but I assure you: it's true. There are those among my peers who prefer to approach this work as a mystery. After all, there was a remarkable fortune at stake here for. ‘When can I see you again?’ Emma let him unwittingly rub her nipples to a smaller, gentler titgasm, then lifted her bust from his cock and climbed from the bed, naked save for the green band of fabric around her stomach. ‘I’m sorry,’ she grimaced. ‘This was just a casual thing. Do you mind?’ Guy looked distraught and sat up. ‘Emma, I cannot live without your tits. I don’t want a girlfriend, I’m not going to obsess over you romantically, but the fading memory of those perfect breasts is not. Mom just looked at my stiff cock and asked, “Do you want me to jerk you off, give you a blowjob, or just let you fuck me?”I could not believe how simple Mom was about this situation.She noticed my hesitation and said, “Listen, I had three brothers, it’s no big deal. Then I always had a boyfriend too.”I just asked, “You really wouldn’t mind?”Mom smiled and said, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to do it.”I asked, “Can I really fuck you?”Mom said, “Yes, you can.”She just slipped her. It fascinated him how a good artist could transmit any of a whole range of emotions with ink or clay or paint. It wasn’t that he didn’t like galleries, either. He and Paige had met in an art gallery – The Met, in fact. No… the fact was, he was dreading this opening, at this gallery, this night. There was something about the artist that Jack just didn’t like. Something about the way his voice could be lilting one moment, then rough as a lumberjack the next. Something about the familiar way he.