I looked at his face but I couldn’t see it properly because his head was tilted slightly back and facing the ceiling but I did notice his eyes were ...losed. Now or never I thought to myself and I looked down towards his feet, directly at his dick, which was now filling with fluid and the eye of it was looking straight at me. Which meant I was on the right track this time? I had to touch it! I moved my hand over his balls which were as tight as mine must have been and I could feel his manhood. The colours, smells and even the sounds were vivid, fresh as the mounded earth on her grave which gradually fell in as the days passed. Some of the staff were embarrassed to find him carefully, tenderly, kneeling to pick up leaves that had blown over the raw earth, tears streaming from his eyes. If he hadn't already been persuaded to have a statue made in the house, he would have had a magnificent marble tombstone erected for her: a sculpting of Christine lying on her front: raising herself. More

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