She was 22 years old. She walked down the isle. Everyone was there. Butterflies danced madly in her stomach, her gown her mother’s, her hair in a co...ffure of bluebells and light from the delicate things woven into it, her arm wrapped in her fathers, her eyes locked on the one whom she would promise forever to. Saying yes, kissing, the reception, the gifts, the dancing, her Daddy’s tears of joy and wistfulness, that night… oh that night… She was 26 years old. The doctor was their, her husband,. I’m not some kind of fetishist, I just liked to imagine her going about her day, naked except for a pair of knickers. I’d encourage her to buy and wear top class undies, comfy for all day wear yet colourful and sexy to look at - I hate grey knickers on a girl.All that died away a bit when we got together full time. I missed it, felt that something was missing in our lives. So one day I sent her a text as I drove away, asking her if her bloke had gone to work yet. Once she worked out the game,. More

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