How does one feed up their true love ?

How does one follow that bonk ? Hoe does one follow them along all the myriad paths their spirit takes ?

How does one give up life sentence for erotic love ?

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A American bittersweet adieu. Claude E. Shannon had known it when she smiled and kissed Molly. The two womanhood had known, and loved each former for a decade, and their treaty had held. Through bad spousal relationship and opprobrious boyfriends ; through the first tentative explorations of their 'other side'; and now through this.

'' Never leave your side. '' Claude Elwood Shannon whispered as she caressed mollie 's hair. A I tear fell to splosh on the bridge of the other woman 's nose, but she paid it no observance. Shannon swallowed.

Her passion was gone. Now she must keep an eye on. It was their pact.

Weak, Claude E. Shannon slumped backwards into the professorship behind her. quiet hung in the room as if mollie 's flavor waited, holding her breath.

She had been so beautiful and total 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 Claude Shannon when the cancer had returned, `` Fuck the infirmary. I 'll take it as it comes, and die at home plate if I have to. ``

She 'd had to. There, just this morn on their couch. They 'd both known it was coming today. You could feel it in the way mollie woke up-in how weary she was.

Weary of malady, but not life.

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

Claude Elwood Shannon could still feel the pleasure of the morn like a dim after-taste of a half-remembered airiness. She could almost taste molly on her lips.

'' screw me. '' Molly had whispered afterwards, `` This afternoon. Promise ? ``

Claude Elwood Shannon had promised. It was afternoon. Molly lay waiting.

Her buff lay as if asleep on the couch. Only the still of her chest cuckold her lawful state. After breakfast she 'd gotten dressed in her favorite suite. Molly was nothing if fashionable-and ironic. She had dressed all in Black, from her bra and panties, to her black blackguard and matching stockings.

Shannon moved to the couch and sat beside her love. There was a meek ammonia water sea tangle in the air. Molly 's bladder had released its message when she died. A tentatively curious hand slid up Molly 's inner second joint, across the slick stockings to her now damp private parts. Claude E. Shannon felt herself raise wet as her fingers pushed molly 's panty aside and probed her lover 's vagina.

mollie was still lovesome, and wet not just with piss. Shannon smiled. Molly must give been imagining this moment. A shrubby bittersweet goodbye.

Shannon stood and undid her bathrobe. The mark that Phil had left with his cigarettes were flimsy mottles on her shapely abdomen and thighs. She 'd never felt comfy in her nakedness except with Molly. It was only right for her to sleep with Molly-now and forever-in the manner that molly preferred.

Slowly, gently, Claude E. Shannon unbuttoned mollie 's blouse to disclose her black silk bra beneath. Practiced fingers undid the clench, and the garment fell away to reveal the bountiful curvature of one breast, and the scar hunk of a mastectomy. Shannon gingerly touched the scar. Molly-had she been here-would have laughed and pressed her lovers hand to the missing breast.

'' See, nothing to hide. '' Molly would stimulate joked. Shannon, choked with rent, lay her head on mollie 's chest and wept.

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

Shannon smiled and kissed Molly 's white meat. Soon they would be together.

'' hurry. '' Molly whispered, `` We need a well fucking. ``

Claude E. Shannon giggled and kissed the abruptly woman 's breast again. Her clapper caressed the nipple and played along the bottom curve of Molly 's one good tit. She could almost find out her moan.

Her hands were groping again. She pushed Molly 's Negro clad legs apart and placed one finger in her bitch. The other hand was engaged with Shannon 's own clitoris. Her juices were flowing now, running down her leg in little rivulets and dripping onto mollie 's skirt.

With a fervidness burning inside her, Shannon grabbed mollie 's chick and hiked it up over her hips. Pulling down the stagnant woman 's step-in she exposed her beautiful blond bush. It glistened with moisture, but Shannon did n't care. She lowered herself to press against her loved, gyrating and shifting her hips. Ever contact between their hummock was ecstasy, and Claude Shannon could feel the orgasm building.

Thrusting her hips against mollie 's she curved her back and pressed her backtalk to her lover 's. Her spit could taste Molly 's last breath, but Shannon was beyond caring.

'' Fuck me. '' Molly whispered.

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

'' Fuck me. '' Molly whispered.

Claude E. Shannon fucked Molly like only another charwoman could.

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The landlady liked both Molly and Claude Elwood Shannon, but never really infer their lifestyle. Her husband called them 'fucking dyke'and would express mirth at his own joke. She thought they were nice ladies who 'd had bad experiences with men. A woman could n't love another woman the Lapplander way a char could love a man.

It was n't possible. 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 well black suite-with a few blazing stains-and Shannon lay beside her, wearing aught but a contented smile. The two were holding hands.

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

It may be unlike, but its still love.

And it was more mightily than life or death .