He finally came, rested for a moment savoring the feel of his softening cock deep in her wet cunt, and then climbed off.The next man, stripped to the ...aist, climbed on to the smiling Anna and took his turn. The sensation of the new deep stroking man was too much: within a minute or so Anna moaned "Oh, you are making me come! I am coming! Ahhhhhh!" She convulsed, thrusting her hips up against the cock still stroking into her. The man, startled, stopped his rhythm, but she grasped his. In those days, weeks and months after Mr. Willy passed as we so eloquently called death, Miss Ethel became an almost nightly fixture in our kitchen. The cigarette smoke added another layer of yellow to the walls as these women shared the pain of loss. I do not remember all of their stories, but I will never forget the strength, love and companionship of those nights. There is one story that I do remember. I hold it close to my heart. For me it epitomizes these people, their lives and the sense. More

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