She faithfully relayed all this sounding like she was in desperation, describing how I was lining my cock up with her unprotected opening. Then her ga...p as I easily slid it in and started thrusting. She changed her conversation to single word grunts. Stuff like cock, in, fucking, along with some grunts and groans. She said fucking several times, then it was apparent she was getting ready to come again. I pulled her knees out and drove her pussy down into the mattress while railing the hell out. She just said he'd been a hero, and I should always remember him that way. And I did. Until last year." "Oh?" I said. "My mom was dying; it was cancer. One day she called me in to the kitchen while I was visiting. The cancer was under control at the time; you know, with all the meds. She made me sit down. She poured me some coffee, and handed me a letter. And a small box." I leaned back against the wall and waited to hear him out. "I opened the box first; it was his posthumously awarded. More

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