.." she pleaded, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. "Make me feel like a woman..."He threw himself down onto her, close to tears himself at her...emotional expression of her need, and his hands gently caressed the warm, silken flesh of her body, exploring the secret hollows and creases while his mouth and tongue sought the erogenous areas of her breasts, underarms and navel... eventually even the sparse, golden, hair-covered mound of her pussy... and he lay between her wanting, spread. I just wanted to ask you if maybe you’d reconsider.’ She got angry, but then her anger melted as quickly as the snow on her lashes. She looked at him with pain in her eyes. ‘Jack,’ she said. ‘I’d might as well ask you to reconsider and change the way you are. Would you? Even if I’d let you? I just can’t do it anymore, Jack. The car with only one door. The apartment with no heat. The bills, the phone calls, and then when you got sick. That was more than I could take, Jack. How are you going to. She just stared at me with scorching brown eyes. After a while I offered, "Okay, you can use this side, I'll take the other one. I don't mind the mess that the idiots leave half as much as you do." I stood and walked down the stairs. I didn't get to the door. Something pushed me up against the wall, and before I knew it, lips were against mine. Smooth and soft, but the kiss was rough. I wrenched my eyes open--they'd closed in defense to the shove--to see an impossible sight. Patricia was. Maggie was slightly younger than my late mother, I couldn't be sure but my guess was late 70s. She'd been widowed many years ago and my late mother had mentioned disapprovingly that she had had a "fancy man". Maggie had clearly been a very glamorous woman in her youth as she often talked about places she'd been to and the people she'd met. She reminded me of Bridget Bardot, old but still had an underlying attractiveness. "My legs are killing me" she said as we sat with our cups of tea on the.