She had done what any loving mother would do and put the safety of her child before her own emotional needs. We walked in silence down the tree-lined ...treets, holding each other’s hand, each grieving in our inner solitude. We spoke of what happened the day I died. Why she left before I awoke (three days later). The devastation I faced due to her absence. I told her what memories my Swiss cheese brain had of the events of that fateful day, and we walked on. She spoke of the ultimate joy she felt. This time he reaches my clit, lightly touching it as though his finger is a cats tongue. I'm dizzy with lust, wriggling and chaffing against his hand. I adjust my arse in my seat from side to side.Wet with longing. I love the library and it's atmosphere of quiet; the smell of the books, the unappealing carpet and the 70's furniture. I wonder briefly if I am making a wet patch on my seat. I like my lips and shiver making a whispered, broken sound. Obie looks at me. I want to burst. “Shall we. More

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