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![]() ![]() ![]() "Dick's Prick stolen! Need your URGENT help. Love, Gran," Cedric Winter read aloud. Lizzy Rumbolds moaned softly, turned over to her other side, and slept on. Taking a seat on the bedside, Cedric tapped Lizzy on her arm. "Lizzy, wake up. There's a postcard for you. It looks alarming." Lizzy groaned. "I wanna sleep. Got a headache." Cedric grinned. "Bad wine after all, hey? Told you so." He put the card down next to Lizzy’s chestnut long curls, jumped to his feet and sprinted to the bedroom door. "I'll brew you a strong coffee, we'll discuss the card and make sizzling love after that," he announced from the threshold. He stretched his athletic body, proudly showing his well-built chest, his strong shoulders, and his trim belly, and then rushed to the kitchen. Turning on her back, Lizzy sighed. Make sizzling love. He’d obviously enjoyed himself very much last night, while she ... She made a sad face. It was no use. No matter what exciting things a guy tried to satisfy her, it just didn’t work out. Last night, in Cedric’s arms, she’d moaned and groaned and moved her inner muscles, as if she really liked his sultry hard dick thrusting into her wet pussy, but she hadn’t experienced any pleasure. Nothing. Nothing at all. She rubbed over her eyes. Poor Cedric considered himself to be her boyfriend, but he wasn’t. Not anymore. He was her most recent ‘Ex.’ As soon as she’d finished her coffee she’d throw him out. She bit on her lip. It was a sad thing though. She liked him very much, but the way she treated him was not fair. Cedric deserved a better woman, a real passionate girl.. She heaved a big sigh. She was everything but passionate. And it was about time she faced the terrible truth. She was 29 and frigide. She’d found the horrible word for undersexed women like herself yesterday. In a badly thumbed book on a library shelf. Frigid. Unable to have an orgasm. She was an Ice Maiden. And she simply had to live with that. “Your coffee Ma’am,” Cedric announced, placing a tray on the bed table. “Did you read your postcard yet?” “No, it’s from Gran, right? It was probably sent months ago?” Cedric picked the card from her pillow, tenderly caressing her face. Good grief. He really wanted to make love to her. He was starting the foreplay. Well. She had an unpleasant surprise for him in the next minutes. “You’re right,” Cedric said, “this card is dated four weeks ago.” “That’s typically Gran. I figure she’s forgotten all about sending it by now.” “Is she in a Nursing Home?” Cedric asked, concern in his voice. “Gran?” Lizzy burst out laughing. “Oh no, Gran’s just an absentminded professor. Literally. She’s an archeologist and teaches at the University in Düsseldorf. Germany that is.” “Sounds like a busy lady. My Gran is rotting away in a Nursing Home. She’s over ninety, a demented old lady.” “Really? How sad.” Lizzy struggled up and, leaning against the headboard, she crammed a pillow into the small space behind her back. Cedric handed her a huge mug containing steaming coffee. “I’ve brought you some aspirins too.” Lizzy gratefully sipped from the strong coffee. It tasted good. Cedric was sweet, and he could certainly brew a good coffee. Cedric dropped an aspirin into a glass of water, stirred, and then pushed the glass into her hand. She drank the sour liquid in one draft, and leaned back again, her face distorted by disgust. “Yuck! That’s really nasty.” He grinned. “What’s her age? Your Gran’s age?” “Gran? She’s ...” She gazed at him over the rim of her coffee mug. “Do you really wanna know?” “Yes,” he replied, caressing her cheek. She drank her coffee, hoping it would take away the unsavory aftertaste of the aspirin. “Well um ... she’s sixty or seventy perhaps.” Lizzy made a face. “To be honest Cedric, I haven’t the faintest idea.” She grabbed a cheese sandwich from the tray and took a firm bite. “Gran’s ageless. Still looking like forty to me.” “If she’s teaching, she must be in her early sixties.” Lizzy nodded, taking another bite. “You’ve got a point there. I don’t remember if she ever retired. Maybe she didn’t tell us. Anyway, what does it matter to you how old my Grandma is?” “I’m just curious. I’d like to know you a lot better, Lizzy.” Lizzy opened her mouth to tell him she had quite other plans with him, but reconsidered. She liked him so much! She didn’t want to hurt him. Not yet. “You’re twenty-nine, right? If your grandma is in her sixties, your mom must have been very young when you were born.” Lizzy nodded slowly. “Hardly eighteen. I’m her little accident, as she called me.” She heaved a big sigh. “Mom wanted to abort me, but Gran has forbidden it. It’s a bit strange to think that I owe her my life.” She stopped talking. Cedric hugged her. “I never met your Gran, but I already like her. She must be a hell of woman.” “Oh she is. You bet she is.” Lizzy picked up her Grandmother’s postcard, and read aloud: "Dick's Prick stolen! Need your URGENT help. Love, Gran." “Dick’s Prick,” Cedric said. “Cute name for a dildo.” Lizzy yawned. “It’s an ancient relic. Sort of. She dug it up years ago, in a ruin near the river Rhine.” “Oh, that’s why she’s making so much fuss about losing it. It doesn’t look like a dildo then?” Lizzy sneezed, rubbing her eyes. My, she had such a headache. She needed some rest to conquer her hangover. “Oh, it does.” She sighed. “It’s a stone prick, always ready for action.”
Ready for action ... Cedric smiled at her in an understanding way. “The thought makes you hot, right?” He jumped on the bed, and taking her in his arms, he whispered, “Not to worry, my sweetheart. Dick’s prick might be stolen, but Cedric’s hard desire is always at your disposal.” There was a promising grin in his words.
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