Her eyes popped open with fear and I clapped a hand over her mouth and muffled her shout. I soothed her, Dont you fret, sweetness, I aint gonna hurt y...u. Just gonna make you scream! My other hand reached her panties, rubbing her cooch through the fabric. Her body tensed, then surrendered to me as I felt a growing warmth and moisture bleed through the cotton gusset. I removed my hand, her mouth opening, and a soft sigh escaped. What are you? Im the Ghost of Paris, sweetness, I answered. I haunt. Regardless of how much he loved me dressing up for him, how much he enjoyed touching my lingerie and especially how well I had learned what really made him feel good. He knew it was wrong to keep it from his wife even though she was of an age that sex was no longer enjoyable to her he was willing to deny himself all pleasure because it was the right thing to do. Myself on the other hand had decided while my wife was going through an early onslaught of menopause I would share my love of all. More

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