About a week went by and I didn't see Helen. I was beginning to wonder if perhaps my voyeurism had grown old and if perhaps, somehow, I had offended h...r. A few days later, I was sitting on my porch, looking at the small bloom that had just started to blossom on the pant that Helen had gifted me only a week before. Helen stepped out on to her porch, wearing the tightest blue jeans that I have ever seen. It had to of taken her an hour to get into them. She was also sporting a cut-off t-shirt.. It was only lacking a kettle and a packet of digestive biscuits."I'm John," he said, awkwardly sticking his hand out to the woman who would shortly have his cock at the back of her throat. She took the hand and gave it a brief squeeze, her smile revealing slightly crooked but endearing front teeth. Her fingernails were immaculately manicured and covered in nude nail polish."Money."John counted out four twenties and dropped the wallet on the floor. A look of contempt briefly seized Anastasia's. More

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