For her part, Mom's reaching arm never touched my chest, I lacking the appropriate contact points, but the hand on my thigh slipped between my legs on... several occasions and, eventually, Mom just left it there, her palm constantly resting near my groin and her fingers trailing down between my jeans. I was always aware of its presence, no matter now interesting the tune.We played for a long time, barely pausing between pieces. I copied Mom and kept my idle hand on her left thigh instead of around. Her ass was firm but still had some bounce to it. She was not overly muscled, but clearly kept good care of herself. I tried not to stare, but my eyes kept going back to her, trying to figure out why I thought I recognized her. I refused to walk up to her during her workout. I hated when people did that to me. I went into my own little world when I got going in a good rhythm, so I would hate to ruin hers by interrupting her. I found myself still thinking about her as I stood in front of the. It seemed like he preached the whole sermon straight to me.He talked about love, loss, and overcoming tragedy. He talked about God’s will, and how mortals would never understand it most of the time. Finally, he asked for a silent prayer for the souls of my family.I had been getting more and more agitated. Every face I saw triggered a memory, every hug or pat on the back seemed to bring more pain. It finally hit me. I’d never had a chance to grieve for my family. I’d had to jump straight in,. The first doctor proceeded to sew her up. As he finished I got to work, squirting what I was informed was an alcohol based distilled water over her 'bikini cut', while passing my hands along the lines of the incision. I knew it was likely to increase her bleeding, but the wound was properly sutured so I didn't worry about it. However, I made sure to keep the energy very superficial.The baby started screaming part way through my procedure, but I couldn't look. Actually the worst part of the.