The second one seems like an attempt at publicizing the names, even the name of the lake steamer. Sztáray is said to be writing her memoirs, which wi...ll certainly be detailed and hagiographic.My uncle was yet more depressed by his wife’s assassination than by his son’s death. The Baroness was his (and Sisi’s) true friend.I felt poorly in the morning. But I wrote about Sisi in my journal and I took a brief walk in the park. It was cold and crisp. There was boiled fowl with carrots and dumplings. Epilogue.Katherine closed the diary and wiped a single tear from her face. She could not have read anymore, there was no more to read, she had been unable to write beyond that point. At least the rain had stopped; she looked at the rain streaked window. In the gathering gloom she could see her own reflection and fancied that she could see a familiar figure behind her and forced her mind back to the day her life changed again. Soon it would be dark and if the skies cleared she would go out and. I still think she knew what was going on but at the time I justed didn't think about it. Eventually she went to bed and wished us a good night.I quickly started reading the magazine but it was very late and he was worried that she might be woken by to much sound so I said I should go. He grabbed my cock and offered to walk me home for I only lived a couple houses down but it was very dark throught the treed area. As we walked he was practically holding my cock and balls. I wanted to cum so. In the morning, Joe woke and masturbated squirting his cum onto my face and hair, he then dressed and went to the ablutions block for a shower leaving me covered with his cum. The rest of the camping weekend was the same after we went to our tent. Joe and I have been secret lovers for over twenty years, he still dated stunning girls, but we have a special love, I am his personal plaything, it is a role I enjoy and look forward to continuing.Joe would call and I go to him, wherever he is, or he.