They told me they would see me later and then left. Dorothy came in and asked if I was hungry? I told her I could eat a sandwich and maybe a cup of coffee. She went in the kitchen while I rested. A few minutes later she came in with a ham and cheese sandwich just the way I liked it. Swiss cheese, tomato, ham on toasted rye bread, she remembered my favorite sandwich. Also a hot cup of coffee that tasted just right. She set up a tray and set it all down in front of me, turned on the tv set to my favorite sports news channel and then left the room. Damn, I missed her, I really did. Just having her in the house seemed to make everything better. What the hell was I going to do? I honestly didn’t know. After eating I must have dozed off. I remember dreaming. At least thinking in my sleep about the last time Dorothy and I had a discussion. I remember Dorothy saying: I have been thinking back over our whole thirty-three years. I can’t say there was love and I can’t say there wasn’t. We had a. Closing the door behind her she slipped off her skirt and hung it on the back of the door and then removed her thong. She opened her legs and ran her hand over the wet folds of her vagina then reversed, squatting to sit on the toilet seat. Her arse was taught as she sat, her rosebud poop hole stretching against her fingers as she felt between it and her clitoris.Her palm pushing against her smooth soft mound as she dipped one, then two, then three fingers into her sodden excited hole. She was in her own world of sexual bliss as she lost control of her bladder, still fingering herself as she pissed into the toilet. She pushed a wet finger, as far as it would go, into her arsehole, frigging herself with it has her palm pushed hard against her still peeing cunt. Her golden flow subsided as her orgasm began its steady rise to its climax. Pulling the finger from her arse she squeezed her four fingers and thumb together and pushed them hard into her pisshole, enjoying the mildly painful.
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