Her hands touching her breasts, teasing her nipples. Rolling them between thumb and forefinger, gently tugging on them. She replayed Franks death in h...er head. As he came inside her she begins to quiver. Her hand tracing down her stomach she touches her clit, caressing it and rubbing as the warm wave of orgasm is washing over her once again. *Click, click.*The next few days were uneventful. Life carried on; she done her usual routines, work, shopping, socializing and such. Then came Franks'. I’ll be going to bed after my bath anyway,” she responded. “Goodnight you two,” she added and head up the stairs. Tony got up from the couch and walked to the front door. He opened it and shut it, giving the impression we had left. “Come on,” he said, putting his finger over his lips instructing me to be quiet. I followed his into the kitchen and stood at the basement door. “I am not going down there,” I whispered; I hated the basement. It scared me as a child and I never stepped foot into it. It had been exciting and fulfilling getting a good fucking from John sometimes three times a week on the sly but she’d let herself get too far into something that had ended up out of her control and left her hurting badly and feeling she’d now passed a line of sorts, a line she could never step back across.Finally, she found herself seated in a booth at the rear of the mom and pop roadside haunt. She’d stay here for as long as it took to process what had happened. Ken had at least offered to. With a clash of gears and a cloud of dust they continued toward her family farm, long unused and all but forgotten. Coming around one of many twists in the rutted lane they came upon the old farm house, in need of paint and with a few broken windows but serviceable but what caught her attention was the stand of enormous, old pines standing behind the house and walking right down to the water of the babbling brook she had been imagining just minutes before. She pulled up into the over grown farm.