But I also knew that I could never contact them and inform them that I was their great, or great-great grandmother. Can you imagine how ridiculous tha... would sound? Yet I still ached to be with my family again.Lastly, I read the accounts of my own death. How many people get to read their final obituary? I had received wonderful write-ups in the local papers. They praised my contributions to the community and local charities as they traced my life from my marriage into the Westervelt family,. “Bobby Joe, bring the camera ... Mom and Dad are fucking on the iron rails at the back stairs.” Amelia said as she ran to get Bobby Joe, who was taking pictures of the water garden.He smiled, and ran to the house, up the stairs and eased the door open. He saw Edward really pounding his Mom from behind and took three pictures. His Mom stood up and turned around to sit on the rail, spreading her legs. Bobby Joe took five pictures as fast as he could, as Edward held his cock, ready to slip it back. More

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