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"I just smiled and said, "I don't know what my husband would think. He has actually suggested he would want to watch me fuck another guy. That's never happened but it's a nice fantasy. If he was here, who knows what might happen?"Craig stared at me in disbelief. He said, "Holy shit, I know you've been drinking, but that's quite a revelation. If he was here, I'd volunteer to help him live out his fantasy. Too bad he isn't here."I kissed Craig, and responded, "Me too. Who knows if he is bluffing or not. I know I'd be willing, that's for sure."Craig and I left that hanging in the air. I was horny as hell. I couldn't believe I had been so direct. After the dinner I went back to my room, got undressed and masturbated as I imagined getting fucked by Craig. My pussy was really wet as I fingered myself to an orgasm.The wedding was very nice. I enjoyed looking at Craig and wondered how big his cock was. I sat at a table with other couples at the dinner that followed the wedding.. I stopped at the bathroom when I heard the shower. I knocked on the door."I'll be done in moment." Breakfast is almost ready." Oh, sorry. I'll be down in a moment."I went back downstairs and helped Mom set the table. I sat down just as Erin came down."Morning Mark, Mom. Where's Jenny?" In the shower." Ok. What's for breakfast?" French Toast." Goodie."Jenny came down a moment later, still drying her hair. She came over and sat down in the chair next to mine."This is definitely one of the best parts of being here, breakfast."I looked at her curiously, "Didn't you eat at home?" Of course we ate. It's just that Jan and I had to fend for ourselves." She suddenly got a sad look on her face."What's wrong honey?" I just hope Jan is doing ok. I didn't get a chance to talk to her yesterday."Erin then added, "She has been spending most of the time at Karen's house. She misses you so much being home. She wants to visit, but your mom is being a bitch about it."Jenny got up and went over to Erin,.
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I can’t seem to remember what came first, but now it was his blood staining my clothes, my hands. They shook so hard too, dabbling at his lips. I prayed to everything and anything, to just make him grow better, stronger. My words would fall on deaf ears, but he would only choose to hear of kindler things, of gentler words. As my heart twisted and wrung dry, I poured it all into him and watched him still grow weaker at being showered under my essence, under my care. Oh, how I clung to him and felt the stirrings of a cold snap settle in. His smiles grew less and less, his pallor lighter and lighter, yet I was there to bundle what warmth I could onto him. He was not left wanting for anything, but of more days to spend. As the dead of winter approached, I was by his bedside when he spoke to me out of the most weariest of earnestness. ‘Don’t let my love with me. Don’t let the seed I’ve planted with you, wither and die. Smile again and remember the days when we ran together. Grow for me,.

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