It seems ironic to me that the one moment when all wanted to cherish and remember the cause of letters loved, and stories told, when it was absolutely...obligatory to paint our grief in the words she gave us, those words ran dry. I wept. No, I keened because the words I needed were gone. When I needed them the most, the fled and I babbled mercilessly with the throngs. Tears were on the undistinguishable faces, pouring out the words that should have been, the words that could not be. And we could. She knew she did not fancy women as such but maybe because her own were so small she often fantasized about touching , licking and playing with some.She had never mentioned this to Dave .Just in case he started going on about it.This holiday though, seeing Liz , every chance she had putting them out there made her a little jealous --but also a little horny.As she made the coffee leaning against the worktop she found herself almost subconciously pressing herself against the worktop enjoying the. More

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