Silence In The Cellar

Chapter One-4

She often wonders even now where her painter is. And when she climbs to the top of her inn, she thinks of the rooms where they f****d. Do they still contain the imprint of their heartbeats, the sound of their cries? On some altered plane are they still there, screwing bodies with brains disconnected for a few moments of bliss? She wonders. But not so much now since Daniel has her story in his hands. Maybe now she’ll stop thinking of the brawny painter and his hefty arms, and sure attack. Surely, there are lovers as inspired as he. Surely. Daniel is not so bad with his c**k in her cunt. He rides her with a vicious zeal—apparently, she revealed a good deal about herself in the story of the painter, as aroused as he seems to be. She hums and mews, getting off again, the second time in an evening of happy letting go.