Ahhhh... ! The lyrics of that sweet old country ballad from the 1930's came drifting back on Memory's Tide as I started to write this story ... hence ...he title.June Richardson wrapped her arm protectively around her daughter's shoulders. They stood watching a lone rider riding away from the wagon train. A few minutes later, he was just a small speck on the distant purple horizon."Mommie, do you think he'll ever come back?" I don't know, Honey," her mother replied honestly."Will we ever see him. ”I thought about this for a second, but then thought, hell, why not. So back into the changeroom I went, and George again followed me in. But before I could do or say anything, he’d closed the curtain behind us and was down on his knees again with his hands up my kilt and starting to pull down my underwear. I was speechless, helping me into clothes is one thing, but removing my underwear…that was a bit much.But he was right, instantly I felt so much more comfortable and feeling the kilt against. More

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