I knelt down, and took it in my hands. Leaned forward, and enveloped that satiny purple head with my lips. Mmmm.... I wasn't going to say anything about my past fantasies either. (Oops. Now I'm told that I certainly _will_ be relating those fantasies in detail, in a future section. Oh well. Me and my big mouth. Ahem.)Anyway, I went to work. I guess perhaps I might have got a little dreamy, and been taking my sweet time, working for a long slow buildup. I wasn't paying attention to anything else. He was waiting outside for me, as I walked towards him he bit his lip, he had a smile on his face.'Hi daddy' I said'Hello, boy' he whispered. 'Come on in' I entered, he closely followed. We went into his bedroom, he immediately took off his jeans and shirt. Instinctively I did the same.He sat down on the edge of his bed, nursing his bulge. But I froze. I was suddenly extremely nervous, I didn't know why. He asked what was wrong'I'm not sure sir, I just feel really nervous' I was shaking. 'I. ****We ended up just sitting and talking for far longer than I would have expected, long enough we probably would have been quite a nuisance if the restaurant had been a little busier. When we got back in the car Monica immediately took over the radio, locating a station she liked and turning up the volume. She looked at me almost daring me to fight her over it, but I let it go.When we got home I wondered briefly if anyone would be wondering where we went. Dad still wasn't there and when it. As a small knoll bearing a naked lilac bush came into view, he pulled the car to the shoulder and parked.Jack grabbed the rose, got out of the car, and trudged over the knoll, leaving a trail of footprints behind. Feeling around in the snow with the toe of his boot, he struck a smooth, solid surface, and crouched down to brush the snow away with his gloved hand.He read the name: Margaret Rebecca McCullough 1959 — 2004, Beloved Wife and Mother. Jack removed a glove and laid his hand flat on the.
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