"Ooh lemme look" she says and steps a bit forward and away from throbbing dick with her hand on her hip and I think "damn I screwed that up". But then...she drops her hand and it dangles right by my pulsating dick head. I move, trying to get it in her grasp, she moves too and the palm of her hand went on it. She knew exactly what it was. At first she just kinda left it there. But then she ever so slightly grasps my dick head with her finger tips and makes bullshit small talk, still looking. ‘Goodness Bridget. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were jealous of her. She’s dead and you’re, well, I mean you are, but you’re still here. How could you possibly be envious of her?’ I couldn’t believe I felt so damn sorry for myself. ‘You’re damn right I’m jealous of her! She had it all, a man she loved and who loved her. Three beautiful children to watch grow up. She got to see the sunrise and the sunset.’ Tears spilled down my face. Why in God’s name do tear ducts still work after. More

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