The mournful song has drifted through the old walls of my bedroom six nights in a row. If I hear it tonight, my fate will be sealed.He's coming for me...— my Bryden, my love, my loss. It won't be long now. The sound of his voice once set my legs to quivering and my heart to pounding. If only I could hear that voice again.I sit on my bed and wait. Will the whippoorwill sing again? Will he call me to Bryden's side? The bird conjures memories, a sound we often heard as we lay hidden in our stolen. I was twenty-six at the time, and Steve was a couple of years older with a good job as a sales manager for the company that makes baby oil. I’d always used a few drops in my bath to keep my skin silky, but he liked to spread it liberally all over my body as part of our foreplay. I did much the same to him, and because we were in the open air with just grass to lie on, it didn’t matter how slippery we got. It was after one of our steamy sessions that we touched on the subject of group sex, and. More

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