High walled entrances with electric gates, immaculate looking gardens and each house built in its own individual style. They were so far apart you could have fitted a dozen London properties into each gap. As the road rose up I was able to catch glimpses of the sea and could almost breath in the saltiness. Grinning in anticipation I couldn’t actually believe I could be living somewhere like this in a few hours’ time. The Florentine was the last house in the road. It formed the base of the cul de sac and it was as if the entire road lead into its gates. Before I could speak into the intercom the gates opened and I proceeded slowly up the drive. As the house came into view it was not a disappointment. Its whiteness stood out against the lush green garden and looked like it had come straight out of a magazine. Not exactly sure where to park I stopped a little way back and headed to the front door on foot. My car would have looked unsightly in front of this entrance way if I had got any. Betsy's hips jerked when she felt his cock against her opening, but it was too late.His lance speared her and all the air came rushing out of her lungs. Bingo embedded his cock until he hit the familiar wall. Now years later, Betsy wondered how many orgasms she had that day. She should have counted, as she was sure it would have been a record. Doris stayed with her on Bingo's bed and the three remained there until early morning.Filler enters her life.Several months later, Betsy's life changed. She lived with Doris and although they were best of friends, even professed lovers, they both understood the reality of getting back to a real life. That meant Doris working in her modeling career and Betsy teaching fulltime. Each had men friends but neither dated seriously after Betsy moved in until suddenly they realized it was expected that single women dated men.The first man Betsy dated was Jim, but Doris nicknamed him Filler. The name stuck just like any unwanted name innocently given to.
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