"It isn't a bad feeling, is it?".She giggled softly. "No"."Then there's nothing to worry about. I'm about to make a new marionette, the prettiest one ...hat ever was"."M... me?". She blushed, though I couldn't tell if it was in embarrassment over the compliment or something else.I began to unbutton her blouse. "Yes, you silly little doll. But first we have to get you ready". Her blouse came off with only a little trouble and I turned my attention to her skirt. Fortunately it was the sort that. Three days later there were more pictures of her posted and she had her pussy wide open with lots of pink showing. There was a shinny tool holding her open even more, so that the camera could see deep inside her. The pictures were crystal clear and quite remarkable, I wondered who had taken them. I left another comment that she was my dream girl and that I would love to meet her someday for sex, then I told her that I lived in New York too. I gave her my anonymous email address and asked her. We met socially very occasionally - I must admit my wife and I liked her, she was very pleasant company. She's a 'toucher.' Our family, on both sides, have always been 'touchers' as well - we'll put an arm around someone when we meet, touch their arm as we talk, often brush cheeks as we greet. I don't know why - I guess it's not everyone's bag, but we just do it. We get more positive responses than negative so it can't be too bad! We met the widow first at next door's Christmas Eve 'do.' It's. If we're sitting together you've got to keep in physicalcontact with me at all times. It's a game, with your satisfaction at stake.If you play well, it'll be worth your while. Enjoy.' He holds out his handto me. 'Best to start now.' I took his hand and we continue with our walk. Thinking it best to practiceacting normally, I strike up a conversation about various people we know. Thisamuses him, but he plays along. Just before we get to collage, he stops walkingand backs me against the fence.