He pushed himself up, taking his body off mine. “No,” I begged, then put my hand over my mouth once again. He smiled down at me. “You should b...g,” he told me. He saw the doubt start to creep back into my face. He leaned down and kissed my neck, slowly, delicately. I sucked in a breath. Having my neck kissed drove me insane. He bit me, not hard, but that earned him another gasp. “Are you wet?” he asked me. He moved to the other side of my neck and kissed and nibbled it. Shivers of pleasure. I really don't know whether it was this loss that started me having sex without any strings - without any feeling of commitment or needing commitment, or without any sense that this might be the man who might be my future husband, but it was just after the funeral on September 30th that I guess I could say I had my first casual encounter with a man. I went back to Aunt Natalie's house straight after the funeral and got talking to a friend of my Aunt's. I guess he was about 50. He'd been a. More

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