And the tune began playing.What a lovely way for a mother to share her daughter’s last day of childhood I thought; and later, even Robert thought so... too; although unfortunately he would be unable to join us, as he had a golfing tournament.It would be a stylish yet intimate thing for us to do together; celebrate her becoming a teenager; a way of introducing her to socialising with the adult world; along with being half naked for some of the time in a bikini.She’d not had a bikini before; just a. The sister's right hand pulsed with orgasmic delight, and circles of depravity flowed across the young nun's frame. Agnes's mind was aflame, but still her moral code held fast. The desire for release could not overcome her disgust at turning her youthful charge into a complicit lover. The confused nun stood, and with feet of clay walked away from the girl to the seclusion of her chair, hidden by the sanctuary of her cluttered desk she slumped to recover.Gradually her head cleared, her heart. Louis Blues at her funeral. She told me it was dad's favorite song. I kidded her about never dying but agreed.When the time came I couldn't do it. Uncle Jimmy came up and played it for me in a muted, melancholy style and I stood there and cried. As he played the words from W. C Handy ran through my mind:"I hate to see the evening sun go down.Yes, I hate to see that evening sun go down.'Cause it makes me think I'm on my last go 'round."Always after that a tear would form when I heard that. I played it cool. "You don't agree, Missy?" I teased, and gave her bottom a little pinch. Bethie replied with a mild slap of my hand and replied indifferently with one of our inside jokes, "Stop or I'll tell." She snuggled her head between my neck and shoulder as I put her hand to my lips and kissed it, my usual reply to her empty threat, an act to make it all better."Well. She chose the right girl to come to for advice." I put my hands on her cheeks to clear the stray strands of hair that hid.