She was wearing a sweater. I stared at her questioningly wondering whether she followed his instruction and wore the sleeveless blouse that i had got ...or her. She smiled and acted as if she was shivering and held her sweater, as if to reply, that she wore the sweater because it was cold.I was mildly annoyed and angry though her smell of sweat hit me as she leaned closer. I loved her body odor. The more she smelled the more i wanted to fuck her brains. It had been just four days since she had. The sound was like a thud, thud, thud. My mind began to wander. What hell were those young men going through? I wanted to bring them home. Bathe them feed them and love each and everyone one of them. Motherly love you could say.In the summer of 1916, I heard the tragic news that Mr. Simon had been killed in action. He was my friend and mentor at the bookshop. Again the shop closed for a few days as a mark of respect. That evening I was trying to enjoy a glass of apple wine but my thoughts were. I love it. Beautiful brown nipples against big, gorgeous snow white tits,’ she said licking and kissing each in turn, her fingers teasing the other as she did.‘Your nipples like what I’m doing. They are as hard as bullets - big bullets. I wish you knew how much this is turning me on. This all for you Sondra. You don’t have to do anything. Just lie back and enjoy and let me look at you,’ she whispered in a very agitated voice, pushing my head back onto three pillows.The pillows were high enough. Then one day she entered my room and I was watching TV and she just came to the side of my bed and kissed me. I was shocked and at the same time very happy. I caught her and held her really tight and started to smooch her. i could not help but caught her nipples through her thin top and started to press them. She moaned like nothing I had heard before. She then asked me to leave her and told me that she would be shifting out of our building as she has got a better place near by with some room.