Just thinking about him was getting me hard. I started stroking myself with my eyes shut then started fingering my asshole. I was pretending it was hi... inside me and I started to stroke faster and faster. I blew my load within minutes then just continued to lay there and soak. All I could think about was him. Who was he? I kept asking myself. I couldn't stop thinking about him.A few weeks later and a week after prom, I got up the nerve to go back to the bookstore to buy the anal plug I wanted.. He massaged her rosebud for awhile, until it opened up and let his finger in. He worked the finger into her ass until it was all the way in and pulled it back out until just the tip was in her ass. He worked a second finger into her ass beside the first and started working both fingers in and out. Molly started moaning and trying to push back on his fingers. Eventually he got a third finger in and after working three fingers in and out of her ass. After a few times he decided she was ready for. It wouldhave been impolite to press.And so it progressed for the ten years after Anthony's death. Then Ireceived the telephone call.It was about one in the morning and it took me almost thirty seconds towork out what the noise was that had woken me up. Few enough peoplewant to call me in general that I tend to be untroubled by thetelephone, even during daylight hours. I could not remember the lasttime someone had rung me in the middle of the night."Hello?" There was a long silence. . ’ I grabbed my towel wrapping it around my front before pulling the shower curtain open. He stepped forward as I stepped out, leaning in to kiss me softly. His hands took up the trailing ends of the towel and brisked them over the wet skin of my back. He didn’t comment on my shyness with the towel and his hands were gentle as he worked. His eyes met mine and he smiled, hugging me close and rubbing his nose over mine. ‘You’re adorable,’ I flushed in pleasure, ‘but I really am sticky.’ He slipped.