I had to admit that it felt good.I tried to fake a smile, I'm sure it came out ugly, and I quickly stopped, but I stayed planted in my chair, ready to...face the evening.I still couldn't remember my date's name. Somehow that didn't bother me. What did bother me was that my presence with a date had no affect on Harold. I continued to stare at him, and after the appetizers were taken from our table, my date changed tactics and watched Harold with me."My goodness, it's like he never even knew you!. I felt sorry for her. I didn’t reply her either. It was an awkward silence. She took the empty cup from my hands and went to the kitchen. I followed her back to the kitchen. She was washing the cups and I am staring at her ass.I don’t know what made me do it, may be the erotic movies I watched or may be the excessive Indian porn I watched, I stood back of her touching my crotch to her ass and started caressing her neck. She suddenly gave a jerk and left away from the kitchen.She went to the. I went back to Aunt Natalie's house straight after the funeral and got talking to a friend of my Aunt's. I guess he was about 50. He'd been a co-worker at the office where she worked, and I suspected that he might also have been a lover. Aunt Natalie had never married. He certainly seemed very upset by her loss, and as we talked on the front terrace of her house he took my hand and I comforted him.And it seemed quite natural for me to comfort him in any way I could. Words didn't seem enough. I. I sat on the bed, blindfolded, sipping white wine. She gave me white wine because it was more girly, more feminine. God help me, I did feel so feminine. And fuckable. I wanted more from her. She had gone to answer the door. But she had touched up my lipstick and blindfolded me first. Carefully, with the strap running under my pretty blue hair. She said she wanted my pretty blue hair free to flow with my movements. I thought I might know what was coming. I was nervous, but I wanted it. I was.