It was strange, too. It felt weird and good, feeling my cock getting sucked, while I was sucking my cock. It was quickly becoming better then any blow...job I could get. Then, before I could consider what I would do about it, I found myself cumming into my own mouth. I swallowed. I don't know why, but I did. "What sort of fucked up gay fantasy am I living," I asked myself. "Is it really gay, since it's just me doing it?" I considered that over the next few days. Of course, I was sucking myself. Did I mention that she had lost about 20 pounds?We went to dinner at a restaurant that we both enjoyed. We had wine with dinner. After dinner we headed over to the County Line. Just a note about the County Line. This is where I had been hanging out since the separation. It was a fun place and I had made some new friends there. We were having a great time. Dancing close, grinding, my hands were roaming and she was not protesting. In fact she was really working it. She was also getting pretty. In the warm morning light this was even more apparent. From nearly blonde to Mediterranean black, every one of them had a hair that shone with health and vitality. Every one, from pale to dark, had a perfection of complexion that no amount of cosmetics could emulate. They moved with an almost inhuman poise and grace. They seemed to glide and sway rather than walk and the soft material of their habits clung to the curve of breast, buttock and thigh suggesting and underlining the voluptuousness. I empathized with her situation and offered her a lift to a petrol station when my car and me were recovered. We chatted about other things and I found her easy to chat to. The recovery vehicle arrived and the mechanic put it on to the back of the truck. I asked him if he had any spare fuel to help Dee get on her way but he said that his last recovery had been a fuel shortage and he hadn’t had time to replenish the 5 ltr canister he normally carried. Dee looked dejected but I said I would help.