We gathered as an extended group, but there was laughter only at her memory, happiness only in our memories of her. She’d been taken from us by an uninsured drunk with seven DUI convictions and not a hint of a license. There was no justice, not for her, the driver served a year, and was released, only to harm others later. My impotent anger could have consumed me, might have consumed, pardon my immodesty, a lesser man. I had two children, though, and they needed me, needed for me to focus on them, on the future, on the big picture ahead. Oh, sure, I got involved in MADD, and prison ministries telling inmates how drunk driving affects the survivors, and fund raisers and on and on. These things I felt compelled to do for Ellen’s memory. My first duty, though, was to my children, my angels, my little pieces of Ellen still left to me. I saw to my girls’ needs, putting them in the best school I could afford, showering them with my time and time spent in the company of relatives, teaching. I flattened my tongue and firmly ran it up his shaft, surprising him, closing my mouth around his head and pulling up off him. His. Knees. Buckled. I almost laughed. That was just the perfect reaction I’d ever wanted to elicit from a guy. I wasn’t done with him down there, and we both paused to think about someone walking in on us. I looked up at him, the question in my eyes. He shrugged, as if to say “screw it”, grabbed my head, and shoved himself into my mouth. I let him take control at this point, but after only a few seconds of straight up fucking my throat, he pulled out and yanked me into a standing position. He grabbed my shoulders and turned me roughly, pushing me over his desk. He pinned me down by the back of my neck and flipped my skirt up, ripping my panties down in the same movement. He did something I absolutely love; he rubbed his head up and down against me, firmly pressing against my clit. We were both soaking wet from this. Then finally, finally, he was pressing.
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