It was the smell that drew me in; the smell of Justine. Her perfume hung on the clothes, faint but enough, enough to make my body respond as though sh... was there. I did the thing that I would never have dared, had she been there. I was alone in the house, in her bedroom with the curtains closed. I took my cock out and started to stroke it. I pulled on it with long, lazy strokes, stretching the soft flesh, enjoying the taboo of masturbating in Justine’s bedroom, invading her private space with. From Newport, I meandered to Mystic Seaport in Connecticut. The restored town catered to tourists; however, I found it quaint and memorable, so another envelope of Karen's ashes got surreptitiously scattered to the wind in the seafaring village of another state. This time as I let the ashes fly, maybe because of the docent's overt innuendoes, I thought of a time Karen and I had been in bed; she'd been trying to get me to think about various sexual fantasies but I'd had trouble coming with any.. More

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