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“Bollocks to that” I said. I was getting a bit cross now. “Just get ready”She frowned but slipped off her blouse and undid the catch to her bra and sat back in the chair looking at me.“Off you go then” she said. “Stand in front of me”“I can’t believe this is happening,” I said to her but I unbuttoned my trousers and pulled them down along with my boxers.Unsurprisingly I was already mostly hard and with a couple of strokes, whilst looking at her mature but still quite pert tits I was fully erect. She stared at me jerking in front of her and smiled slightly as her right hand began to rub her pussy through her trousers. I was rather hoping she would UN button them or put her hand down the front of them but she never did.She sighed and closed her eyes but kept gently rubbing her crotch.“Tell me when you are going to cum” she said.“I will” I replied slightly breathlessly.She opened her eyes and smiled at my panting breath then closed them again.I was close to cumming so I silently stepped. Anne's first stumbling,halting, verses. Of no merit, of no meaning but to Anne as shetried, through them, to explain to herself her own existence. Andshe had given it, the poem, to him because it was the one thing ofvalue that she had to give.He slipped the paper from its envelope and held it there, folded, in his lap; his eyes distant upon the far hills, darker now, morepurple, in the fading of the day. He owed it to her, to them. Owed it to Anne and to Emma. Otherwiseit would all have been in vain. All the courage, all the friendshipthat had sustained him, that had given him this chance.He replaced the still folded paper back in its envelope, theenvelope in the rucksack's side pocket, as he levered himselfupright. Swung the rucksack onto his back, settling its straps onhis shoulders before turning to follow the path that would take himdown to Patterdale and his car. To his car and the cottage that washis, David's, refuge.No need to read it. Anne's voice was in his head, and.
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