Fritz held out his hand, she took it and he led her into the living room. Well, there's no holding back now, reasoned Ingrid's intoxicated mind.Frantz...had his face buried in the old woman's cunt. At first, Ingrid couldn't believe what she was seeing. Then she got mad at Frantz, of course, the beer she had drunk helped her to decide. That son-of-a-bitch, he just went after that old pussy. He couldn't wait for me! She turned and looked at Fritz, "Well, are you waiting for an invitation. I want. She decided pasta sounded good for dinner. She shopped quickly and decided to round off the meal with a nice bottle of red. She picked up a nice Oregon wine and studied the label. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed what she thought was a familiar face from her past. The guy looked just like Mark, but it couldn’t be Mark. She hadn’t seen him in six years, not since graduation. They had been sweethearts, but after graduation, they had lost track. She left for a summer job as a camp. More

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