Shannon, though, had no pity on him. Worse, she unbuckled her belt, opened the zip, and bared her pussy. One of her hands caressed the dark curls, tem...pting him.Fuck!“Gee, she never did this to me!” the moron said, walking to the bars, his prick peeking through them.Her back turned to Nick, and she bent. “Fuck me, Nick,” she demanded, “hard.”“Oh, man!” Jack blurted, one arm exiting through the bars to grab his erection as his hairy midriff pressed in the metal.Nick’s eyes darted down to the. Two weeks later, Mum and Dad arranged for a relative to look after me as they dressed for the funeral. Mum felt that it was better that I stay at home, rather than subject me to the solemn occasion of the woman's passing. Several of the neighbours and Mrs. Clarke's elderly sister would attend the service at the crematorium, returning for a simple buffet at the house.I watched the hearse pull up outside, noticing the coffin on prominent display in the rear. I tried to visualise her frail frame. I supposed I still had some remnants filial affection. Jean watched me carefully and would remind me at those moments of the horror that Chrissie had suffered. The news came from an entirely unexpected quarter. My mother phoned. "Clem! I have some terrible news to tell. Ramsay is dead; he fell down the stairs at Winson Green and broke his neck." I didn't know what to say as I was shocked and scrambled thoughts rushed topsy-turvy around my mind. Was this an unexpected accident or was this the. Back at my room, I took a nice long bath and then headed down to the Lakeside Restaurant for some breakfast. Erin and Isabelle waved me over to their table. I thought about running away, but Isabelle said, “sit with us Abbey.” I was trapped, but there were hardly any other seats, so I sat down. “Where is your husband this morning Erin?” I inquired. “What do you mean dear?” she said clearly confused. “Bobby, ...your husband,” I explained. They both burst out laughing. “He isn’t my husband,” Erin.