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I'm not blind. I can see it's what you want. So I want it, too. Go and tell her, darling. She's a lovely person and it will make her so happy."With this generous blessing I hurried downstairs to invite Fran to walk with me outside.It was deeply affecting. Fran wept tears of utter joy. She told me how she had hoped for this and dreamt of it but thought it could never be.She was, bless her, desperately concerned about Wendy. She insisted on taking me back to the house so that she could assure herself in my presence that Wendy was as supportive as I claimed. Before long the two women were embracing and crying and saying how much they loved one another and each was telling the other how lovely she was ("lovely" was definitely the key word that morning), and things got so thoroughly girly that I was, I ought to be ashamed to say, glad to slip away and leave them to it while I went downstairs for a fuck.Several fucks, as it turned out. I was conscious that time was passing and soon I. It was slow, frustratinglyslow, but after a few intense minutes I laughed out loud with the sheerpleasure of looking between my legs to see he was entirely, perfectly buriedinside me.And afterwards, we lay entwined in the clean perfection of her bed, his handcupped one of my breasts and mine lay over his sleepy cock and to hisbreathy snores I looked at the ceiling, at the old, but bright posters and Ithought of the bonfire on the beach and the dancing girls and the boys whohad followed Victoria into the dunes; how she'd felt to take them one afterthe other, slowly and happily, on a bed of her own skirts; watched only bythe moon and the stars.I stroked Tim's cock. "She misses that," I whispered to him."Victoria?" She's dead." You're her."An image hit me. It punched so viciously I fell from the bed with a cry tofind myself kneeling against it, breasts to the mattress, my bum facing thedoor. Fingers twisted in my hair and made me look around."You slag." Charles, no!" I saw you. Spread.
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