My co-workers were not the only ones who got to enjoy them. Her co-workers, almost all young females, got to eat them as well. I had her take pictures...of them eating it and made her masturbate looking at the pictures and telling me about it. We also always made sure we had cookies ready whenever we had guests over or went somewhere to visit. Oatmeal cookies were now pretty much what people expected when they saw us and some were even asking for them. We kept silent about the baking procedure,. ”“You mean your Dad?”She nodded.“But ... Surely you’ve got other things to remember him by? Photos and things like that?”She nodded. “Of course. But he loved that company. It was what he lived for. What he died for as well I suppose. Selling it feels like selling a part of him, you know?”I didn’t know, but I didn’t say that. We walked in silence for another hundred yards or so before I said, “Riss, you do know he’d planned to sell the company before ... Well, before. That’s why he brought Pete. More

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