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I held her in my arms and planted a kiss on her lips. I said that I would only kiss her, to which she replied that ‘I won’t allow you to go beyond!’ We started smooching again, and again my hands drifted on her waist. Every time I tried to wander my hand above her waist she would put my hands back to the origin. I was smooching her lips; my hands were still wandering around her naval searching for the prized treasure. After some 5 minutes of touching, caressing, and smooching, I took my chance and tried to put my hand on her boobs above the bra. To my utter amazement she didn’t tell me to stop, was it my lucky day I thought then! Her silence gave me strength; I covered the entire contour of her boobs with my hands.Today I wanted to measure them, feel them, and see them. I was thrilled; I rose and tried to uncover her boobs by lifting her clothes. She didn’t resist, instead she closed her eyes, and passed a moan. I lifted the clothing and I could now see her white bra! I sighed, tried. In profile, as she studied him, there was calm concentration as he shifted gears, making several turns. She thought he was about her age.The car stopped in front of a decrepit looking building, but there were no broken windows as many around it had. He came around and opened the door, and she got out, feeling somehow safe, unthreatened. He walked ahead of her to a door and opened it with a key from the same ring as the ignition. He held it open for her. She looked in his eyes, but got no hint of what might be in store. Just as on that first night, he was simply waiting for her to decide. Her choice.She entered and he closed the door behind them. The massive open space was warm, and soft light illuminated a finished oak floor, with a large exercise mat directly in the center of the halo of light from overhead. She got a sense of other rooms around. A faint smell of incense, with none of the underlying stench of the dojo. It was very quiet.He walked to the mat and faced her. His eyes.
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Donald Morrison still lived in his home, a widower for the past fifteen years. He was still young, and was known to be quite a ladies’ man at the Senior Center. Beccah smiled at the look of pride that swept over Drew’s face as he spoke of his father. He listened and seemed truly interested in her life away from Richie. When she spoke of her work with patients’ rights and end-of-life education, he asked questions pertinent to his own life, someday anticipating his father’s passing. “Why did you choose to come to County Hospital, Bex? You probably could have gone anywhere. What did you expect to find? You didn’t really think Richie would wait seven years, did you? Or did you come here to get him back, one way or another?” “You make me sound horrid, like I had this master plan. Drew, he told me he would wait, and I came back to see if he did. I wanted him to be proud of what I made of my life. I still love him. There’s never been anyone but Richie. I wanted to come back to him, a.

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