What you wouldn't tell your friends about. What you really, really want. Tell me." She just stands there for a while. I hold her shoulder, reassuring,...but not demanding or eager. Finally, she speaks. "I... I want to..." She swallows. "I want you to hurt me. Bad." "That can be arranged." I put my other arm around her hips and hold her closer. "Define 'bad'. What do you consider being hurt bad. Clothespins on your breasts? On your nipples? A paddle? Candle wax? Just how bad is 'bad'?" "I want to. I have personally witnessed her fucking the pool boy, the pizza delivery guy, the cable man and just last weekend the lawn boy. She is a redheaded vixen about 5 ft 5 with DD breasts. Her nipples are teardrop in shape and dark brown, contrasting her pink flesh. To say that they are magnificent would be an understatement. She might weigh in at 130lbs. In her thirties she is married to a man much older than her. Older than me in fact and I just turned 50 this last month. He is a successful. That was pure Neil, yet it survived his death and lived inside me. What else might have survived? That’s why I was so relieved to find that I very much enjoyed hugging and kissing a man. That one kiss assured me that Neil’s memories living inside my head weren’t going to interfere with my sexuality.A few minutes later, when we were in the back of the rented limo, glasses of Champagne in hand, I decided to get things out in the open. I slid the glass window closed so the driver couldn’t hear,. ’ Vivienne glanced at Sarah. ‘Where’s Cliff?’ Sarah smiled into her eyes. ‘He’s on his way from work. He groused about having to take the buses from his job to The Court this evening, but that’s just his way. He’ll be all right once we’ve settled in.’ ‘All your things from Southshore arrived yesterday, and I’ll help you unpack if you like.’ ‘Okay. That would be nice.’ She gave Vivienne’s hand a spontaneous squeeze. They went up the stoop beside the screened front porch and into the house,.