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She found the tiny silk rose bud that she had bought just for this dress. She brought it to her nose. But of course there was no smell. It was silk. Not the sweet pale pink buds that opened so briefly each spring. There was no life in this flower. Not even for the briefest of moments. Her fingers trembled as they began to stitch it in the center of the ribbon. A single tear fell. It stained the white and pink cheeks of the material. Another joined it. And another. The spot was growing. Spreading. Just like the cancer that had stolen Nana away. A final stitch and she held the little dress up once more. ‘It’s beautiful,’ his voice was rough as he placed his large hands on her shoulders. ‘Perfect.’ He knew just the right words to say. He always had. ‘May I?’ he asked as he held out his hand. Reluctantly she handed it over to him. She fought to release it. He had as much right as she did. It was as special to him as it was to her. She watched as a huge tear trailed down his cheek. It. "Okay," she said, stopping giving me head. "But I want to ride you." I lay on my back on the ottoman and she straddled me, lowering herself onto my throbbing column. "Oh God, oh yes," she groaned as I filled her and she slowly rocked her hips back and forth. Soon her cadence intensified, her hair whirling around and the look on her face one of pure ecstasy. I played with her tits, gently twisting each pink jewel. She arched her back to feel every inch of me, a moan following each bounce. I prefer being on top and generally don't like coming on my back. When I sensed she was about to have another orgasm, I sat up and dropped her onto her back. Pulling out, I got on my knees and flipped her around into doggy-style. Her grunts sounded like they bordered between pleasure and pain as I teed off on her from behind, my belly loudly slapping onto her ass. She screamed out a command, "Pull my hair... pull my hair, you fucking stud!" I grabbed some of her hair in a loose fist, but it wasn't.
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