I wouldn’t want to say I wanted to necessarily "fuck" Fancy. My feelings for her were strong. I really liked her. I respected her. But there was som...thing about her that was sexy as hell.“Ugh! Ugh! Oh, God, eat that fucking pussy!” She said, while I fingered and consumed her juices.In my opinion, with her, the word "fuck" is too strong. It’s too primal. HSheand I are not together, so it’s not “making love.” But if it did happen… we would be making sweet, sweet love and she'd be riding it like a. The relief from stress was almost indescribable. I could finally let my guard down, relax without the risk of being murdered by my own asset.Go ahead, drop your guard. See what happens.Cancer. That’s what happens.Cervical and uterine cancer.You know those degrading, uncomfortable pap smears women have to get? Do it. Really. My survival chances were good because we caught it really early. To someone like me the answer was pretty damn obvious. Pull out all the plumbing. All of it. Never planned. The first was an antique leather-bound journal with a worn strap holding its covers shut, the second was a heavy envelope with my name, Melissa Gordon, written on it in neat (if old-fashioned) cursive hand. The letter inside was typed on expensive heavy-weight paper that had the company watermark in the center of the page. The letter explained that the law firm had been retained by a small, independent museum to find and return the accompanying diary to the nearest living heir of the doner.. The leak problem was simply a nut needing tightening but with the view I was getting I made the job last intending to have a good wank when I got back home.“Can I go to my room now mom?”“Of course you can darling and thank you for helping us, weren’t we lucky Andrew was about?” Damn, one pair of legs gone and I wouldn’t be able to make the job last much longer but just as I was about to say I’d finished Karen stood closer with her legs parted slightly giving me a close up of her thong covered.