George, Harold… She begins to suspect the answer is beyond her reach. She sends out fingers of desire, need, thought- tries to project them into her...past, pull out something stable. The images seep through her fingers like fine sand peppered with doubt. Irving, Johnothan, Kenneth, Lyle… She has a deep envy of the living. She is tired of her half-existence. She is tired of being sad, tired of not even minding that someone her age should grieve. And in the thin bony box of her head she. .....The feel of it against your lips, the firmness as it slowly disappears into your mouth, your tongue felling the texture and stiffnessEnjoying roaming hands as they caress your thighs, getting so close to your lips, teasing milking your pussy as juices can be felt by you leaking out. Gliding your lips back up the shaft to the head of that hard cock feeling the rim of it on your lips as it pops out. Keeping it in the crease of your lips lightly sucking the nectar from that cock causing it to. More

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