I dreamt of her, her hair as white as the snow which covered her grave. Her smile, always warm and welcoming, the look she always had in her brown eye..., a look of knowing things which others did not, and sometimes, she did. Her voice and her scent haunted me, I wondered if I had done right by her. Would she have liked the funeral? Was the minister the one she would have picked? What about the flowers, the music, her funeral dress, was she satisfied? Did I do the right thing by following her. So am I, Steven. I have no idea why, given the multiple shattering orgasms tonight, but I am. I want you. I want to know if this can work. And I really want to come again. Please?" My God, you are gorgeous." I'm sure. Sweaty, red-faced, eyes bloodshot, hair looking like a rat's nest..." Ravishing. Stunning. Sexy." He leaned in and whispered the last one. "Fuckable." So ... that's a yes?" How could I say no to a beautiful woman?" Alright. Back to my question. What position?" Well, um, almost. More

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