Then bending down to reach behind him I slid my hand that was wet from the pipes down the back of his pants. The crack of his ass served as the map to...what I might find. My index finger and its closest friend found joy in the thickening fur the closer I edged them to the final stop. Brap. He arched, head bent down to the floor, his hands anchored my feet and my finger slid in. “Yes” was what I heard and then a final click, someone was coming. I could feel his ass grip my finger three quick. But on the other hand this feels so wrong. It feels like for some reason Ava wants me to be sexually close to her. It feels like she wants me to have sexual experiences with her - under the pretence of nudism, of cuddling with her, of shaving her private parts. Is this how she deals with the grief of the loss of her mother? Is the grief clouding her judgement? Are the sexual experiences with me a break and relief from her grief, from her physical pain? After all, her arms and legs have been. More

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