I was on fire. I stroked what was undoubtedly her flat stomach, longing to reach below her layers of clothes. She didn’t move. I was on the right track.My hand moved down, down but wandering without a compass. If her torso had been the Mississippi River, my hand would have been roaming around St. Louis instead of the Delta. She said nothing as she let me continue my silly caresses of her lower stomach. She seemed like she might let me go further.Finally, she reacted.“What do you have there?” she said defiantly, her eyes pinned to my tenting crotch.She opened my fly and reached in.“You know what to do with this?” she challenged.“Yes, I do,” I said equally defiantly.I managed paw her right tit, groping it like it was an orange or tomato at a market stall. Her firm breasts stood proudly, not too large nor too small, a mound of well-contoured flesh that fit in my hand perfectly. I felt myself get hot and hard.“I have things to do,” she said and abruptly left. I stood there open-mouthed. Forgive me Ess, it`s your forgiveness that I want, not the forgiveness some great deity, some will of the wisp belief that I am not sure even exists. Some of the folk are still alive …just… and though in the autumn of their lives, would not want notoriety at this late stage so I beg of you not to reveal them or their secrets. Finally, Ess, in the bank under our name is a deposit box, the password is ‘Ess’, here there is your legacy, ill- gotten gains true but enough to keep you and Tim for your lifetime along with some videos of our last few years. I love you my own beloved c***d, always have, always will until we meet again… wherever! Your ever proud fatherSilvester. You could have heard a pin drop as they sat, silently digesting the content of the letter then they turned to the pictures.Those pictures, were she found, easy to sort into date order as they each had a date written on the rear lower left corner of every single image along with a reference number. She shuffled them,.
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