" Somehow I managed to come up with the words that would get me a moment or two to think. To this day I'm not sure why I didn't just explode and tell ...er to hit the road. Maybe I'm just too nice a guy. Or maybe Hildie trained me too well.I went into the bathroom and needlessly adjusted my tie for several minutes. I ticked off the items in my mind.Linda definitely planned this in advance. The red dresses were an admission of that planning.She had to have known she was the one to be my escort. Magenta's eyes were closed so hestole a moment to gaze at her. To most men she wouldn't be consideredattractive. She was overweight by more than fifty pounds, but much of ithad settled into her bust, hips, bottom and thighs. He was mesmerized byher over-upholstered curves. Her eyes were small and deepset, her nosetoo large, and her lips overly full. When she smiled it exposed her horseteeth. But even her less than classic face appealed to him. Maybe it wasthat it went so well with her. Her grave is isolated because an access path built a few weeks after her burial separated it from both the old cemetery and all the other graves in the new area. ***On Saturday morning, after breakfast, I sat at the kitchen table with the ingredients before me. I measured carefully, using modern equivalents of the very small medieval weights. The drink was mainly water and a couple of teaspoonfuls of anything alcoholic. I used Vodka. The other items including the scr****gs from Phyllis’ grave. "Mmm, nice," she purrs."You like it?" I ask, my hands kneading her breasts, "soon it's going to be buried in your cunt."She looks me in the eye teasingly. "Just my cunt?"I open and close my mouth several times like a goldfish. So much for my attempt at the suave dirty-talker. Molly laughs at my expression and begins struggling to get the legs of her overalls over her boots. I should offer to help, but watching her breasts sway as she works bent over is irresistible for the moment. She tugs the.