As her teachers hand came down and restedon her head, she followed it?s ever so gentle guide in between her legs untilher own lips came into contact w...th the soft lips of her teachers mysteriouspussy. As her passion reached feverish pitches, there was no limit to how herfantasies let this continue until finally her teacher orgasmed violently into herhungry mouth, at the same moment as her fingers made her own little cunny blowoff its pent up frustration. The fantasies about her kept coming back. “How?” I said.“Not sure, Lee. Maybe and aneurism, but we won’t know for sure till a little later,” she said. She sat with me for some time. I finally came to my senses, sort of.“Can I see her,” I said.“Yes,” she said. “I’ve arranged it. Come.”She led me into the room. The room where my momma had died. It was July of 1987. Caroline Wyatt was only 55-years-old. She looked to be asleep, only that. But there was no movement or breathing. Penelope pulled a chair up next to the bed. I sat in it.I. More

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