Well, she was in the water, afloat. There didn’t seem to be any leaks. The riggers came and tuned the rig. She was still afloat and dry a week later... It feels like time for a watery road trip.I called the Highway Patrol:“No. We haven’t found her yet. Why?”“Itchy feet.”“Don’t leave the state.”“What does that mean ... Exactly?” I asked.“Stay in the legal boundaries of Michigan.”“How far out in the lake is still Michigan?” I asked.Well ... that stumped him.“I’ll have to check.” He said, “I’ll get. He was diagnosed with what is called a diaphragmatic hernia. I will spare you the most intimate details and simplify it. Our son was born with no left side to his diaphragm. This leads to a crowding of the lungs. In his case it appeared he had no lungs. In-utero he was fine and quite lively. It was when he was born and attempted his first breath would he be touched by struggle. So touched by the news of this probable loss we grieved even before he was born. For two weeks we cried and tried to. She ground into me, lifted off of me, and slammed back down. I now knew how her legs were so amazingly toned. Anyone who was able to keep this pace was just a sex freak. Her tempo was getting to her, and she was taking time on each thrust to make sure she rubbed her clit on me. She was fast approaching orgasm, and she wanted me to join her. She tightened and untightened her cunt, leaned forward until our faces were almost touching and used only her hips, rocking them up and down as she. 'So you like looking at this?' she asks, wiggling her backside.By now my cock was beginning to swell. I admit, 'I most certainly do,' then add, as if in jest, but knowing I mean it, 'In fact, if you keep that pose up much longer, I'd be doing more than just looking.''Promises. Promises,' she laughs and to my disappointment, but not, surprise Sarah sits back down.We carry on the banter for ten to fifteen minutes. Sarah has obviously been thinking about what I'd said, because she suddenly becomes.