Busty Mallu Aunty Having Incest Fun

They sat, cursive glances watch-ward briefly in check, and he replayed the video. Neon, sweat and hamburgers. An overweight man, picking his nose. Children crying and asking for things they’d been taught to want. Their parent’s, merely older credit-card- carrying caricatures. Each scene was punctuated by a chorus of canned laughter. The city portrayed was as faceless as any other, the same global-franchises with contemporary office-blocks doing their dance of efficiency upon the sepulchres of the resident architecture. The footage was carefully choreographed, so as to not have any readily identifiable signs or images A music store window, poster-tiled to infinity with the blonde embodiment of keen market research. Drivers swearing at drivers swearing. Liquid rainbows slipping down drains, to be of no thought or consequence again. A laden pram probing the traffic like some absent-minded insect. The images flashed by, quicker and quicker, to the point of subliminality. The laughter. ”“Ambiguity is our friend right now. If things got more definite, I’d have to leave.”At the next table, the server opened a wine bottle with a distinct POP. They both jumped a little.“Good point,” said Mia. “Forget specifics. In fact, forget that we’re even here. Or that we know each other? Who are you, strange man sitting at my table?”“I forget. Names are too specific anyway.Unseen, Eros sat the next table, fiddling with his bowstring. He couldn’t help but smile. Their little human idiosyncrasies were stupid, but he enjoyed them anyway. He was a sucker like that. Neither of them believed this “just friends” business for a second, but since when was it a crime to lie to yourself? He could just keep arranging innocent get togethers for the two of them, and sooner or later, of their own accord—“EROS!”He jumped. His bowstring snapped. “Shit,” he said. It took him a moment to recognize the woman shouting at him: Hathor. Today she looked like a normal woman, sans calf head. It was a good.
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