My knees begin to weaken as the crotch of my panties gets wetter and wetter ... so I stop the delicious torture and lower them to the floor.Sitting on...the toilet, I place one foot on the handicap railing, lean back and close my eyes, my pussy opening itself to the cool air. My hands go to my overheated core, rubbing my thighs and tickling my lips before spreading those lips and dipping inside for some of my own natural lube. My right hand starts to rub my clit (softly at first) while my left. (I always cry when I hear "Silentnight", "Nearer my God to Thee" or "Amazing Grace" as some other peopledo) Tears started to flow and I couldn't stop them. I just tried not toweep aloud. A man wasn't expected to cry and I tried to keep my tears atleast till we came home where I could hide in my room. I cried a lotthese days and during burial I'd dropped not a single tear standing allthe time by side of my father. There were we - the Grabowski family - thefather and the son. After my mother's. More

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