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Going past rolls of tombstones, all perfectly aligned next to each other. A few people scattered around, some putting flowers. Others were cleaning the monuments. Everyone had someone here, who they had lost from one way or another.Stopping the car, she climbed out. Walking to some graves which I presumed one of them was our fathers. I followed behind at a distance, giving her space. She stopped at a plot with a brown granite tombstone. Near the top of the stone, in the middle was a colour picture of our father in his fifties. Below the photo, his name then the year he was born, and the year he died. With these words written after.‘Here lies a beloved father. Parted by death until we are reunited. Together as a family again.’“Hey dad, didn’t I tell you he looks like you.” Jennifer cried out. Dropping to her knees, she put her arm out, to touch the tombstone. Putting her head down, she started to cry. Walking over to her, I kneeled down next to her. Embracing her in my arm, as she put. I’m sure he enjoyed that. Did you?”Wow, I’m not going answer that. But was feeling pure delight as she continued to lick my chest clean, and continued down lower over my abdomen and stomach where Art left other deposits of his semen that had dried on my skin. It’s a strange feeling being blindfolded while someone touches and licks you all over. I tried to imagine if she was holding her hair back while she tongued my belly button, was she sitting leaning over me, was she kneeling between my spread legs, was she naked…was she touching herself…? Ahhhhh…“Please mistress, lick lower…between my legs,” I begged her.After a few more licks she said, “This is punishment, not for your enjoyment.”“Please mistress, take my blindfold off. I want to see you…touching me.”“In due time, Sarah. Now tell me which of my underwear is your favorite.”I thought about it for a few seconds then answered, “I love the silk bikini with lace.”“Ah, I know the ones, light blue, silk, lace borders. I should have.
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