Five feet six inches in height, she was a slim woman of regal posture and well-cut features. She always wore her honey-gold hair piled up in permanent...waves, the style being reminiscent of the inter-war period. Her eyes were pale blue, puckered at the corners by crows' feet and wrinkles from so much smiling. Her lips formed a delicate line which always seemed ready to break into a smile. She liked colourful silky dresses with the hem just below the knee and sandals with wedges. Her adornments. But then she is kissing me in earnest. I feel wetness on my cheeks. Her tears are falling onto my face. I put my hand around her shoulder, simply lightly holding her body."Just relax, Love," I say, easing her back against the mattress, "I'll take care of you." We continue kissing with me lying on top of her. I'm slowly and gently rubbing my leg between her legs. Every so often I begin kissing down her neck, gently treating her shoulders and collar to kisses, always returning to her lips. I. More

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