What greeted her was a landscape of decay; the air was heavy with the scent of neglect, a pungent mixture of old food, musty fabrics, and something indefinably sour that made Cheyenne’s nose wrinkle in distaste. “Thanks to you.” He tried to muster more, to express the depth of his appreciation, but words failed him, leaving only the tangible weight of silence between them. The thought of parting with any of Erin’s things felt like betraying the past they had shared. He then stood up, while still buried deep in her pussy, walked behind the couch and stood her up. “We’ll do this together.”
And as the decision settled in the space between them, Larry felt the first thread of connection weave into the tapestry of his solitude, binding him to a future that dared to glimmer with hope. He watched as she flipped through the pages, each snapshot a fragment of a life he once knew. Cheyenne paused, a tangle of discarded clothes in her hands, and turned to Larry with a warmth in her eyes that radiated through the disheveled space.
