Harry Parker had died twenty two years after his first heart attack and the birth of his son Rick. He had filled every day with joy and lived it as th...ugh it was his last, until finally it was. Ten days ago he had collapsed in the garden and was pronounced dead twenty minutes later, at the hospital that he had generously funded for all these years. The paperwork and legalities had taken seven days to process, including permission for his ashes to be scattered on tortoise island. As the rose. But we never took the next step.He ran his hand up and down the curve of my waist in a teasing manner, stopping right on top of my ass. Damn, I want this to happen. I want him the way he wants me. It was perfect. He eventually eased his hands slowly to my ass cheeks; squeezing and caressing them while running his tongue against my tongue. Our lips were making beautiful noises. We continued until his hands reached under my camisole, to my bra and then grabbed my tits—groping and making circular. More

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