I find myself wondering if that might have been best. But such thinking is futile. I did sell the house. I did stay in Cambridge. And we did stay toge...her, if peculiarly. My life become one of memory and fantasy. Memories of days, nights, experiences, with Julie and Anne, and other women, some of whose names I could not even remember, some of whom I was surprised to realize I had known twenty or thirty years earlier, were incomparably more vivid than Lynn’s infrequent, wraithlike presence. I. Everything I could think of. She was reveling in my oral love, I could feel her ass tighten and unclench as I drove her up that ladder of passion. My face was wet and smeared now with her secretions. I could have stayed here at her sweet pussy for hours but she couldn't stand anymore and bathed my tongue with her clear cream, I swallowed every delicious drop I could get. I didn't stop I couldn't get enough of her. She finally had to push me away, her hips shuddering and shivering. Her clit so. More

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