After her death, I still didn't date. Hell, I was sixty-five years old and wasn't about to start over. Who the hell would want an old man?I thought ab...ut my life and knew I had lived a good one. A loving wife and great kids. I thought back to my moment in time and did wonder what Jill thought that day in the bedroom so many years ago.As I mentioned earlier, I saw her maybe a dozen times throughout the years. She and Tom catered parties and other occasions. Whenever we went to one, I always said. ’ You step closer to the bed and continue to gaze at me. Tiredness and stress leave your face and is replaced by calmness. Standing by the bed you whisper, ‘You…are…beautiful.’ I reach out for your hand and take it in mine. I pull myself up and kneel in front of you. Hands together, I place my forehead on yours. ‘Thank you,’ I whisper and I place a soft, sweet, slow kiss on your lips. I remove my hands from yours and slip your shirt off over your head. Your chest is smooth, your shoulders. We continued drinking through the evening, with Sharon consuming a littlemore than myself, we chatted about my work & the pathetic men who drunkenlytried to chat us up unsuccessfully. Last orders were called and we got a taxihome to mine, Sharon asked if she could see the room where I used my clients,unlocking the heavy oak door to the cellar, flicking the switch to light thestairs down, she followed giggling nervously behind me. Her face was a picture as she looked amazed at the racks of. We would go out, sunbathe, eat, drink and then go back to the apartment and make love until the early hours. We did it everywhere and it took us nearly a whole day to put the apartment back in decent order. I did have one more trick up my sleeve as I wanted Sam never to forget our Italian stay.One day when she had gone to the shops, I filmed myself masturbating on the very couch where we had first savoured each other's bodies. My plan was to e-mail it to her at the right moment. Our last day.