He hated living alone so was in no hurry to go back to his farmhouse in the hills. The bigger town Lucy lived in offered more entertainment. At least ...here was cable TV and the internet. She was in no hurry for him to leave either, needing the companionship of a man after living with one for more than thirty years.She wondered as she said goodnight to Orval if he remembered the family reunion out at the farm he still lived on where they skinny-dipped at the beaver pond and he was the second. Tight black leggings with no underwear. The outlines of lips so clear, so obvious, so visible. Images that were not sexual at the time. Images that were the subject of playful words. Words that some people took offense at. I touch myself. The image is different now. The image is of lips that need to be touched. To be sucked. To be licked. I touch myself. The image is of folds opening, of pink dampness beneath the black outer shell of tight leggings. The image is of lips parting to reveal pink. “Lovely....you have good hands”, she said, turning her head to look at him seated on the bed beside her, and immediately seeing that his shorts were tighter than usual, and saw the outline of his cock under the fabric. “Don’t stop”, she said, as his hands moved lower down her back, and then up to caress her shoulders. “Mmmmmm.......”. After a while, he stopped, and said that he thought she was done. She turned to thank him, totally forgetting that she was naked from the waist up, and saw a. ‘Fuck, Dawn!’ Faith screamed, and she quickly picked Dawn up and set her down in the bathtub. She grabbed some towels from the closet and wrapped them tightly around Dawn’s arms, stopping the bleeding while fighting away tears. ‘Damn it Dawn, what the hell were you thinking?’ Faith growled to herself as she tried desperately to stop the bleeding. She held the makeshift bandages on Dawn’s arms while she took out her cell phone and dialled 911. 衟 emergency, how can I help you?’ A woman’s voice.
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