The Way Over There

“Well, here we go,” said Marshal as the plane was taking off.

”Here we go,” said Mary, smiling the sweetest of sweet smiled.

They were holding hands, flying across the Atlantic to their romantic holiday in Venice. Need I say they were in love?

Marshal leaned back and thought of the cost. It was not that great, and he was always generous. Mary was falling asleep, that little flower, her eyes were accentuated with black, her lips full, her breast ripe and soft. She would soon pay her own way, in laced lingerie in front of a fireplace. Not a high price. A fair one.

Posted by: Paweł Kowaluk