The last words she spoke to me were, “I’ll never forget you.”Whether she has, I’ll not ever know but she remains burned into my memories like ... brand into a hide. If someday Alzheimer’s eats my brain, I sincerely hope that those precious cells where she is stored remain intact until my last breath.Throughout this story, I’m calling her Eleven because we never exchanged names and so my only frame of reference for one of the great, if brief, passions of my life is her, in Seat 11A on the big. He shot his load inside her.“Oh Steph”, Donald croaked, “I’ll never give you away as a bride or hold any grandchildren by you.” He sobbed as he thrust in an increasing rhythm.My Mother took me by the hand to the coffin. She bent over the side, displaying to me her ass. I took my tool and entered her anal canal.“FUCK ME BRAIN, UP THE ASS!!!” my Mother screamed. With each thrust I fondled the glands that fed me when I was a baby. At this time Tiffany serviced Father Paul. Fifty strokes later, his. More

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