“No kissing,” she said, “No undue familiarity.”“Sorry Madam,” I apologised, “Shall I fuck you tenderly or shall I use you like a whore?�...�“Use your discretion Hanson,” she suggested, “After all that is what Butlers are supposed to do.” “Thank you Madam,” I said. “In that case take that you bitch,” I said and I slammed into her.“Not quite what I had in mind,” she laughed, “I would prefer less talking and more effort.”No kissing, no talking, it was like using an Army brothel again except I did not. We opened presents and then Mary would go in the kitchen and make a huge breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, hash browns, biscuits and gravy.Even after our kids had grown up Mary and I would sit in front of our tree on Christmas mornings and open our few presents. Then the phone would ring and the kids and grandkids said they would all be over for breakfast.It's funny how you remember these special times. I guess in the future, the memories are all we have left. When Mary contracted cancer, I. More

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