I used to be a treat… a naughty little 'get her in the mood' thing. Maybe once or twice a week, she’d open the dressing table drawer and run her f...ngers gently along my length. She’d hold me in one hand and lie on the bed, flicking my switch and as I buzzed into life, she’d slowly slide me along her slit. My tip would trace her folds and slowly begin to circle her clit.Sometimes, she’d push my head inside her, feeling her soft velvet walls gripping me as she panted and squirmed. I could always. Opening the door the odors immediately took me to a child again. The lemon smell almost caused me to cry. Starch, cleanliness engulfed my senses. I was there to gather a few things from the attic. Walking up the cranky stairs brought back memories. I found myself close to tears. Opening the door I saw the camel back trunk and walked quickly to it. Lifting the lid I saw the crocheted scarfs. Moving them I found the enamel red box. I left the house placing the box under my arm. Waiting until I. More

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