I liked helping her wash. I liked oiling her boobs, too. The stretched skin needed care to prevent developing stretch marks. So, our evenings in the b...throom were all about caressing, picking her breasts up, and letting them hang down, kneading them, and gently oiling them all over. It always aroused both of us so much that we were making love in the shower or hurried to bed to continue cuddling and hugging until we made love again.That afternoon when Molly came home from the visit of her. I hadn’t had a nightmare on a Friday night in quite a while. I’d had one the night after my mess-up with Francine a week ago and woke up with Peyton holding my hand. But Em was here with me now and when I tried to pull my hand away, she gripped it tighter. Her eyes squinted open at me.“Never let go,” she mumbled.“I thought ... I was dead.”“Just a dream. Don’t let it bother you. It was just a dream.”“It’s not a dream, is it, Em. I died.” Her eyes flashed open and stared at me.“Don’t go there,. More

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