October 31, 1965It's been two years since I lost my dear Edward. I can't bring myself to change his room around or get rid of any of his things. This ...orning I went to the cemetery and placed flowers on his grave. I never talk to him there. I talk to him only at our house. I know he can hear me. I sometimes think I can hear him whisper my name. November 1, 1965 I did not want to get up this morning. I had the most wonderful dream. Edward was here in my bed with me. He kissed me harder than we. The hands return to your breasts, pinching the already hard nipples, and kneading the soft skin. “Did you leave your panties at home like a good slut?” You nod when he asks you this. “Good, show me. Lift your dress to your waist.” Your hands slide down to the hem of your dress and slowly pull it up to you waist. Your juices are now running down your thighs and legs like a river. One of his hands leaves your breasts, sliding down to cup your mound, middle finger sliding between your wet. More

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