But sometimes that made life seem a bit like a sad comedy. Likeone of those silent movies where a man keeps slipping on the same bananapeel over and o...er again. You feel guilty about laughing but you do allthe same. Maybe because it really did sum up the tragicomedy of life in anutshell."It all seems so futile sometimes. Like you try and try and can't get itright. You can never stay on your feet. Or not for long, anyway."Walt nodded. "I used to see it something like that, too. But, in the end,I. "I took her soft hands in mine with all sincerity.“Whatever happens, wherever life takes us, if we ever find ourselves lost in this world, without each other, our town where we grew up together will be our beacon back." I promise."Leaving Em that day was the hardest thing that I would ever do in my life. Not knowing how long it would be before we saw each other again or what our future had in store for us. The hardest part of all were the tears in her eyes being the last vision I had of her as. .perhaps some things did make more sense in thiscontext. From a young age, I was always fascinated by my mother'sthings. The silkiness of her dresses. The stretch and hold of her oldfashioned girdle. The colors and scents of her cosmetics, and theshine and glitter of her jewelry. By the time I was 8, I would takeany opportunity when she was out to put on one of her outfits, andmake up my face. I always took precautions, and was never caught,despite a few close calls. By my early teens, I really. Then her cum starts to leak around my fingers. I move my finger up to the roof of vagina and rub her secret spot. She flinches as I hit that spot and put pressure on it. I can hear her moaning as she builds up an orgasm."O my Goddd yes that is the spot, keep rubbing it, I am close to climaxing." She moans in passion. "Can you feel me start to cum baby?" she asks me as her breathing becomes more laborious.I moved up and started to rub her clitoris. It becomes enlarged by her excitement."How does.