" Is that a promise?" She managed a weak smile."It is," I replied solemnly."Then I'll be waiting for you," she said."Good," I told her, "We have a lot...of things to discuss, and, perhaps, some catching up to do."She gave me another smile, looking pallid, weak, and happy.The medic pushed at me, saying, "That's enough, Mr. Winchell. She needs to rest. God only knows why she hasn't bled to death. There's much less blood than I would expect from a wound of this kind, but it's still a major trauma. I LOVE BEING BUTT-FUCKED. PLEASE! PLEASE FUCK MY ASS!!! It had been many years since he had heard anything resembling her plea. He looked at the nightstand, and understood its significance. The much used jar of Vaseline took a whole new meaning. He couldn't know it had only been used in the last 2 or 3 days. He reached over and took a healthy bit if the gooey stuff, and smeared it on his cock. He replaced the jar, and took a towel from the floor, where they had dropped it, and, folding it in. More

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