Based on "Winter" by William ShakespeareWhen ghastly melons guard the door,And coloured sugars come by the bag,And fields of grass wear green no more,And leaves begin to wilt and sag. When the bones of nature litter our floor,Then Jack grows into a witchly hag,Makeup and wig Come out at last, While greedy children knock at the gate.When days grow short and nights grow long,And teen athletic games take place,And ravens nightly croak their song,And orange and black adorn. ”“Let me show you where the coffee is. Want to have a cup?”“Sure.” I strolled behind her to check out her heart-shaped-ass. My mind flashed to the thought of pulling her off into one of the storage rooms along the corridor so that I could shove my cock in her mouth for a little post-mass delight.C2 “Why doesn’t your husband or son join you at Church?” I asked a couple of weeks later, over a latte at a coffee shop not far from the Church. Pleased at easily convincing her to meet ‘off-site’ after. ”We left the bike behind and walked down the ancient walkway to Old Jaffa. I told her a little about growing up in Thorncliff; she told me of her family: father a paratrooper in the IDF, mother who had discovered she was Jewish from her Polish parents, who had converted to Catholicism before she was born. We compared lives as military brats – similar the world over – and as the experience of an only child of a single mother versus growing up in a family of three brothers and two sisters, her.Read More