I guess it is a cliché to say they were the best years of my life. But they were. They were magical and yet so very common. There was the simple ease...of being together. The understanding. There was the warm, uncomplicated shelter of her love. The sex too. Sex has always been important to us. Anne was like this delicately tuned instrument. A Stradivarius violin, say. Or a Bechstein piano.Just playing her took my breath away. Oh yes, I did love to play her. Did. (Have to get used to this past. The same(no response from her).I went upwards onto her bra. I wandered all over it. Most of her boobs are left uncovered. I touched them and tried to squeeze. They are tight because of her bra. I went into her bra and removed one of her heavy breasts. No response, she is in very deep sleep. I moved to her nipple, pressed it, pulled it, and even squeezed her breast. I enjoyed playing with her boobs. No reaction.I left her boobs and went to her panty. I moved to her buttocks. They are fleshy and. More

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