Her breasts were each the size that would fill a man’s hand with nipples somewhat off-center. The photo ended at her upper thighs, just below a thick V of black pubic hair.The black hair on her head was short and permed. One curl recklessly plunged over her forehead. It was her expression, though, that caused me to sit and stare at the photo. Her brown eyes were open wide and seemed to plead with the camera, though for what I didn’t know. Her mouth was slightly open and seemed to be strained, lost somewhere between a smile and a scream. There was a complex mixture of emotions on her face. Was she aroused by being photographed? Offended? Was she nervous? Humiliated? All that was there and more.I sat and stared for thirty minutes or more, transfixed. I had never experienced anything like it, even when I was drinking. I wasn’t a man holding a photo of a woman who died decades ago; we were two people looking deeply into each other’s eyes, seeking something we couldn’t name but needed. I wanted to take advantage of both Mary and the situation before it was too late.Dragging her inside, giggling and collapsing in my arms, I put her down on the bed, and returned to the hallway to collect her belongings. My erection was patently obvious through my trousers by now, so I was glad the neighbour had disappeared. I threw her stuff on the floor inside, locked the door, and headed back to the bedroom, only to find that Mary had fallen sound asleep, sexily sprawled on the sheet, her most private parts on display, but her interest in procreation having disappeared. I probably looked disgusted, but that's because I was. Looking at her a little longer, but knowing I couldn't make much use of her now, without being even more crass than usual, I wandered out to the lounge, and then remembered that Mary had a supply of sexy videos hidden in her room, so I returned and grabbed a couple of them, and went and sat in front of the television, and watched the first video.The 'story'.
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