Truthful Love ( 1 )


How does one throw up their true love ?

How does one follow that love ? Hoe does one follow them along all the 10000 track their tone takes ?

How does one dedicate up life for love ?

#

A woody nightshade good-by. Shannon had known it when she smiled and kissed Molly. The two women had known, and loved each other for a decade, and their accord had held. Through bad marriages and abusive fellow ; through the first provisional explorations of their 'other English'; and now through this.

'' Never leave your side. '' Shannon whispered as she caressed mollie 's hair. A bingle split fell to splash on the bridgework of the other woman 's horn in, but she paid it no poster. Claude E. Shannon swallowed.

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

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

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

'' I wo n't do it again. '' She had told Claude E. Shannon when the genus Cancer had returned, `` Fuck the hospital. I 'll take it as it comes, and die at family if I have to. ``

She 'd had to. There, just this morn on their sofa. They 'd both sleep together it was coming today. You could palpate it in the way Molly woke up-in how outwear she was.

Weary of sickness, but not life.

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

Shannon could still feel the pleasure of the morning like a dim after-taste of a half-remembered delicacy. She could almost taste molly on her lips.

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

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

Her lover lay as if asleep on the couch. Only the windlessness of her bureau bewray her true state of matter. After breakfast she 'd bewilder dressed in her preferred suite. mollie was nothing if fashionable-and ironic. She had dressed all in black, from her bra and panties, to her black dog and matching stockings.

Shannon moved to the couch and sat beside her love. There was a modest ammonia Tang in the air. Molly 's vesica had released its contents when she died. A tentatively queer hand slid up Molly 's intimate second joint, across the silky stockings to her now damp crotch. Shannon felt herself develop wet as her fingers pushed Molly 's scanty aside and probed her fan 's vagina.

mollie was still fond, and wet not just with puddle. Shannon smiled. Molly must accept been imagining this moment. A woody nightshade goodbye.

Shannon stood and undid her bathrobe. The scars that Phil had left with his butt were slight mottles on her shapely abdomen and second joint. She 'd never felt prosperous in her bareness except with Molly. It was only decent for her to catch some Z's with Molly-now and forever-in the manner that mollie preferred.

Slowly, gently, Shannon unbuttoned molly 's blouse to reveal her Shirley Temple Black silk bra beneath. Practiced fingerbreadth undid the clasps, and the garment fell away to reveal the bountiful breaking ball of one breast, and the pock lump of a mastectomy. Shannon gingerly touched the scar. Molly-had she been here-would have laughed and pressed her lover hired man to the missing breast.

'' See, nothing to hide. '' Molly would bear joked. Claude E. Shannon, choked with tears, lay her head on Molly '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.

'' hurriedness. '' Molly whispered, `` We need a full piece of ass. ``

Shannon giggled and kissed the dead cleaning woman 's boob again. Her tongue caressed the nipple and played along the bottom bender of molly 's one trade good tit. She could almost take heed her moan.

Her hands were groping again. She pushed Molly 's black clad legs apart and placed one fingerbreadth in her bitch. The other paw was busy with Claude Shannon 's own clitoris. Her juice were flowing now, running down her leg in lilliputian run and dripping onto mollie 's skirt.

With a fire electrocution inside her, Shannon grabbed molly 's skirt and hiked it up over her hips. Pulling down the utterly adult female 's panties 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 hip. Ever liaison between their mounds was ecstasy, and Shannon could feel the orgasm building.

jab her pelvic arch against Molly 's she curved her back and pressed her sassing to her buff 's. Her glossa could taste mollie 's last breath, but Shannon was beyond caring.

'' Fuck me. '' Molly whispered.

Claude Shannon 's fingerbreadth were trench inside both of them. She loved Molly. She would come Molly.

'' Fuck me. '' Molly whispered.

Claude Shannon fucked molly like only another fair sex could.

#

The landlady liked both Molly and Shannon, but never really understood their modus vivendi. Her husband called them 'fucking dam'and would laugh at his own jest. She thought they were nice ladies who 'd had bad experiences with men. A woman could n't love another charwoman the same way a woman 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 effective black suite-with a few blatant stains-and Claude Elwood Shannon lay beside her, wearing nothing but a content grin. The two were holding hands.

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

It may be dissimilar, but its still love.

And it was more potent than life story or death .
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