D. was at home on her vanity. “I’m sorry, I don’t have that with me.” She couldn’t open the purse and show him that she didn’t have it, ...because the contents of the purse would raise far more questions than they would answer. “I,” she stammered but had no answer.“You’re new to this area, aren’t you?”“Yes, I’ve been visiting family here.”There was another of the indulgent smiles from the man behind the counter. “Of course you have.” He gave her a once over that made her very nervous and. My teeth clench as he enters me. I try not to grimace, but I’m only human. The sharp, quick sting of it makes me wince, followed quickly by a long guttural moan.“Hm, hmmm,” he chuckles, “you’re feeling that, aren’t you?” His eyes are filled with the type of lust that looks something like madness.“Fuck you!” I snap, making a lackluster attempt to push him away.“Ha!” A real laugh this time, “Fuck me? Nah, fuck you!” He articulates each word carefully, clearly, punctuating each one with a deep,. As I was getting my new home in order, I was going through many of the boxes that had been packed from my parents’ home. Most of them were being donated and scaled-down as my place was much, much smaller. One of the rooms was going to be my office/study for graduate school. A number of boxes had been dumped there by the movers. I saw a box that had my mother’s handwriting on it. This was particularly odd as it must have been packed prior to her passing. With some trepidation, I opened it. At. “Now get some sleep.”Next morning was Valentine’s Day. I woke up to find the bed empty. My spirits dropped as I remembered the last time, when she came out of the bathroom fully dressed, but she came into the bedroom carrying mugs of tea and she was still beautifully naked.She carefully put the mugs on the two bedside cabinets, giving me a smouldering kiss and climbing back into bed. We drank the tea before she broached the subject.“I need to say something about last night,” she said,.