He fingered the edge of the recordsleeve carefully and considered removing it from its worn covering, butfor some reason it felt wrong to take it out....ther boxes were opened, each revealing their own memories. The initialplan was to mark each box with a tick or a cross to signify theirimportance, but he couldn't bring himself to etch a cross into any of theboxes."Are you nearly done up there?" his wife called up after a while.He was surprised at just how much he hated her voice now. It. "Young lady, it's way past bedtime," my mother scolded. I told her okay, shut down the computer, and went to bed. For as long as I could remember, I'd worn pajamas to bed. Tonight, I just hung up my clothes and climbed between the sheets naked, tweaking my nipples and fingering myself like a slut until I finally fell asleep.I awoke the next morning exhausted, having fingered myself all night long. I knew I'd had at least four or five orgasms, but none were like the one Robert had given me the. More

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