"Well, you'll find it all set out in the commendation the Germans sent." He went to a filing cabinet and brought out his 1939 file. "Yes, I've got the translation here. The Germans weren't very popular in 1939 as you can imagine and not as much was made of their commendation as should have been. Want a photocopy?"After reading the commendation I rang Adalind and asked her to come for lunch in Worthingthorpe as I needed to discuss the sharing of ownership in the bungalow. After we ate I got her to accompany me to the shingle bank. She was none too keen on this since it was an awkward place to get at, but I insisted.I led her down the long stairway to the marshes. Corn was growing there. Each year the blades pushed their way up to the stage of full corn in the ear, but it was never reaped, a mere travesty of what corn should be. So it fell and died, and next year fresh life reappeared, curiously persistent. The cargo of the Horstfels.Finally at the shingle bank I showed her the skeleton. My erection was throbbing, and I wanted to stroke it, but forced myself to be patient. I was amaxed to see her walk over to her dresser, atake out a long black wig, and carefully put it on. The length ended at her shoulder blades, and although it was styled straight, it was very full. After some brushing and fluffing of the wig, I heard her say, "Hmmm...bet that k** next door would shoot his stuff seeing me in this", to herself. She couldn't be more correct....she looked hot. I watched her apply her makeup and lipstick, and when she put on a necklace of red pearls, I began to stroke myself. She stood up, looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the wall, and said, "Ah, the hell with nylons today." She picked up the satin blouse, examined it, and muttered, "Shit...makeup stain," and threw it onto the bed. She walked to the closet, opened the door, and stood with her hands on her hips deciding what blouse to wear. She stepped further into the closet to move the clothes around,.
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