Old magazine

He buried his head between her breasts, kissing them, and she sensed his cock touching her soft folds. He pushed. She felt his warm shaft impale her and she moaned at how wonderful it felt. He was kissing her and thrusting himself in and out of her deepest parts.

“Oh, George, you feel so good.”

His release came too fast and he flooded her inner heat with his come; he cried out in the quiet room.

She looked down at the mask that she was holding. George had only been dead a month, heart attack; it had all ended too quickly. She missed his laughter, their talks, and his rugged smell. He was her best friend and now he was gone.

As she sat on the attic floor, she realized that for the first time in a long time, she wanted hLong Lostim. She thought of the memories of that Halloween night when they had conceived their eldest daughter, Victoria, and a delicious heat rose within her. The heat felt so good and so long overdue.

She saw a glint of light reflect off the golden clasp on the box and she peered into it again. There was a small pile of black and white photographs. She blushed and remembered. In the first one, she was on her knees in front of his cock, her mouth around his length, her eyes staring at the camera.