As soon as the girl turned full profile, she immediately recognized her as none other than her former object of affection, Candy, the daughter of her beloved bum pounder, Sir Jeffrey Buckmaster. The memories flooded her mind of being "ridden" to a sweating finish-line by the master of ceremonies when it came to anal amusement.Candy recognized her at the same time and let out a gasp of mixed surprise and displeasure."Winona, I didn't recognize you when you came in. You have aged beautifully."Winona knew it was designed to hurt more than to compliment because the serving girl was still as youthful and desirable as in those early years of flowing spunk and multiple orgasms.She was fully aware of the fact that her boobs had matured rapidly with the birth of two children and that now it seemed like she was lactating far more than she would prefer. It was also a fact of science that her previously pronounced bum cheeks were slightly drooping due to the inevitable forces of gravity and their. The cold winter sun is starting to set. I walk for hours taking in the winter landscape. I think I was just hoping I would hear the little girl. With darkness firmly in place I start toward home. It’s a hard pill to swallow being all alone on Christmas Eve. I know many many people are suffering alone as well. I say a prayer for the lonely. I have a few scotches and head for bed. I cry myself into a stupor. Between the drinks and the sadness I drift into sleep. What was once the happiest day of the year is now the saddest. I awake with a sudden jolt. I was dreaming but can’t remember it. The reality comes back to me. I slouch back into my warm bed. I am tired but just can’t seem to drift back to sleep. I think things will be better once I am past Christmas. The wind is blowing big time. I hear shutters clanking, gutters crashing. I hear a sound that I can’t make out. It’s a faint breathing sound. Sounds travel up the stairs in odd manner. I leave the lights out and quietly start.
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