How does one devote up their true love ?

How does one follow that love ? Hoe does one follow them along all the myriad paths their flavor takes ?

How does one dedicate up lifespan for erotic love ?

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A false bittersweet goodbye. Shannon had known it when she smiled and kissed mollie. The two char had known, and loved each other for a tenner, and their treaty had held. Through bad marriages and abusive boyfriend ; through the number 1 tentative explorations of their 'other English'; and now through this.

'' Never leave your slope. '' Shannon whispered as she caressed molly 's hair. A single tear fell to squish on the bridge of the other woman 's nose, but she paid it no notice. Shannon swallowed.

Her love was gone. Now she must succeed. It was their pact.

Weak, Shannon slumped backwards into the chair behind her. quiet hung in the room as if Molly 's life waited, holding her breath.

She had been so beautiful and full of life. Even now, after losing one breast-and thinner than she had ever been-she was still beautiful to Shannon.

'' I wo n't do it again. '' She had told Shannon when the cancer had returned, `` Fuck the hospital. I 'll take it as it comes, and die at rest home if I have to. ``

She 'd had to. There, just this daybreak on their couch. They 'd both bang it was coming today. You could sense it in the way molly woke up-in how weary she was.

Weary of sickness, but not life.

'' Fuck me. '' She 'd whispered that forenoon as the two lay in bed, `` Now. ``

Shannon could still feel the pleasance of the break of day like a dim after-taste of a half-remembered dainty. She could almost try out Molly on her lips.

'' Fuck me. '' mollie had whispered afterwards, `` This afternoon. assure ? ``

Shannon had promised. It was afternoon. molly lay waiting.

Her fan lay as if asleep on the couch. Only the stillness of her chest betrayed her rightful state. After breakfast she 'd gotten dressed in her favorite suite. mollie was nothing if fashionable-and ironic. She had dressed all in black, from her bra and panties, to her opprobrious heels and matching stockings.

Shannon moved to the couch and sat beside her making love. There was a balmy ammonia tang in the air. molly 's bladder had released its contents when she died. A tentatively curious hand slid up molly 's inner thigh, across the satiny stockings to her now damp crotch. Claude E. Shannon felt herself grow wet as her fingers pushed Molly 's panties aside and probed her lover 's vagina.

Molly was still fond, and wet not just with wee-wee. Claude Shannon smiled. Molly must have been imagining this moment. A Celastrus scandens goodbye.

Shannon stood and unmake her bathrobe. The scars that Phil had left with his cigarettes were flimsy mottles on her shapely abdomen and thighs. She 'd never felt comfortable in her nakedness except with Molly. It was only ripe for her to slumber with Molly-now and forever-in the way that mollie preferred.

Slowly, gently, Shannon unbuttoned mollie 's blouse to unwrap her grim silk bra beneath. Practiced fingerbreadth undid the clasps, and the garment fell away to discover the handsome curve of one breast, and the scarred lump of a mastectomy. Claude Shannon gingerly touched the cicatrix. Molly-had she been here-would have laughed and pressed her lovers hand to the missing breast.

'' See, cypher to hide. '' Molly would stimulate joked. Claude Shannon, choked with bust, lay her headspring on Molly 's chest and wept.

'' Hurry. '' She thought she heard Molly whispering, `` I 'm waiting. ``

Claude Shannon smiled and kissed molly 's breast. Soon they would be together.

'' haste. '' Molly whispered, `` We need a safe shtup. ``

Shannon giggled and kissed the dead womanhood 's bosom again. Her spit caressed the nipple and played along the bottom bender of Molly 's one unspoiled tit. She could almost see her moan.

Her hands were groping again. She pushed Molly 's pitch-black clad legs apart and placed one finger in her puss. The other bridge player was engaged with Shannon 's own clit. Her juices were flowing now, running down her leg in picayune run and dripping onto mollie 's skirt.

With a blast burning inside her, Shannon grabbed mollie 's skirt and hiked it up over her pelvic girdle. Pulling down the stagnant woman 's panties she exposed her beautiful blond Vannevar Bush. It glistened with wet, but Claude E. Shannon did n't care. She lowered herself to press against her loved, gyrating and shifting her pelvic arch. Ever contact between their mound was transport, and Shannon could feel the orgasm building.

Thrusting her rose hip against mollie 's she curved her back and pressed her mouth to her lover 's. Her natural language could sample Molly 's net breath, but Shannon was beyond caring.

'' Fuck me. '' Molly whispered.

Claude Shannon 's fingers were deep inside both of them. She loved Molly. She would espouse Molly.

'' fucking me. '' Molly whispered.

Shannon fucked Molly like only another char could.

#

The landlady liked both Molly and Shannon, but never really understood their lifestyle. Her husband called them 'fucking dike'and would laugh at his own joke. She thought they were nice ladies who 'd had bad experiences with men. A woman could n't jazz another charwoman the Sami way a charwoman could have it away a man.

It was n't potential. It was n't natural.

The landlady found them lying together in their bed atop the sheets. molly was arranged peacefully, dressed in her very best black suite-with a few blazing stains-and Claude Elwood Shannon lay beside her, wearing cipher but a content smiling. The two were holding hands.

A fair sex ca n't love a adult female the way a woman loves a man.

It may be different, but its still love.

And it was more powerful than lifetime or death .