His father was of course aware of the situation. He was also aware Sarah was tending the fireplace behind him, and was bending down rather provocative...y. Richards’s dick was responding accordingly. That day somewhat dragged and Richard excused himself shortly after dinner that evening to retire, on the pretence of a novel he wished to finish. ‘Good night son.’ His father wished ‘Sleep well.’ Richard noticed a smirk on his father face. ‘Good night father.’ Richard replied ‘I’m sure I shall.’. Every year, the ever dwindling numbers of ex-service men, filed along the Mall in a proud march, to lay wreaths of poppies at the Cenotaph and pay their respects. Each with his own story of his part in the last world war, Each holding their memories of fallen comrades, small and large victories, amusing anecdotes and tales to enthral young children, or bore the elder, young men. Not all of the war had been about blood and guts, mud, hard rations or killing the Germans and the Japanese. Some of. More

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