I was shown to the coach, which had blacked out windows. The door opened and a hand extended to help me in.There were three men there. One in his fort...es, the other two about thirty years old. They introduced themselves. Peter was the older one. He had grey hair, a pleasant face, and was average build. Steven was slim, with long black hair and piecing blue eyes. The third man was John. He was tall with short brown hair. They all sat on one seat against the back of the coach. I sat opposite. Or he’d fucked her. The ultimate act of love and affection. Reputedly. It hadn’t been a very romantic fuck, Fatima knew. But precious few of the not many fucks in her life had really been much better. At least he hadn’t laughed in her face when she’d suggested meeting again. And it had been him who had made the first move, when he placed his hand on her thigh. Though, naturally, Fatima made bloody sure that it wasn’t going to end there. She pulled out his prick, long and thin and hairy, rather. ” I didn’t know what to tell the man. Jim was fighting for the South but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him no. So I shook my head yes. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said. “Are you living here all by yourself?” “Yes, sir,” I said, “my husband is fighting in the war as well.” “You must be right proud of him.” “I am.” Then he asked if there were any chores that he could tend to since my husband was gone. I didn’t want to be rude so I told him I needed help moving my mamma’s chifferobe in the master. He wondered why his mother hadn’t mentioned anything about her little trip to jail over breakfast. Now that he thought of it, his mother had been rather quiet that morning.“Your mother is on the front page,” Sam said.Sean yawned and rubbed his eyes. He asked, “Does it have her picture?”“Uh, yes,” Sam answered wondering what Sean’s reaction would be to the picture they had used in the paper.Sean reached over and grabbed a copy of the newspaper. He looked at the front page and focused his eyes on.