It could not compete with cloaking sorrow that enveloped those gathered to witness the last journey of a man who lived well. Whose absence would be fe...t by those who knew him. ‘Ian was my friend for more years than I care to remember.’ Nigel began as the final note from the bagpipe finally became lost in the breeze. Standing before the entrance to the ancient burial mound, ringed by nine, thirty-foot slabs of time-weathered limestone, Nigel looked weary. His left arm, in a sling was crossed. He was still kissing my neck and I could feel his breathing quicken, he was getting excited and couldn't wait much longer. He started to trail his kisses from my neck down my chest and all the way down my body, adding to his two fingers, he gently massaged my clit with his tongue, he was slow at first, but started getting faster and faster, harder and harder, my breathing was heavy as I arched my back in pleasure. “R...Ritchie” escaped from my lips. I was nearly done, but he stopped and looked. More

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