Still unaware of the gruesome sight over the hill, Count Vee dismounted and greeted us with a slight bow.“Lord Solon and Lady Julie, what a wonderfu... sight you are,” Count Vee announced with warmth. “The weather has been dreadful and uncooperative, I am surprised you got ahead of us.”“We pressed on through the rain,” Julie responded with little humor.“It wasn’t much fun,” I said, trying to answer politely.“Of course, no inns in the forest,” he joked.“No one left to worry about there either,”. “Why not?”, she retorts.“Emily, we’re in church!”,“So? Didn’t Jesus ever go to the bathroom?”, she mentions.“I’m sure he did, but not with people watching.” I look at Emily. I’m a little ticked off by this, but I relent. I remove my panties, and unbutton my blouse. I pull up my skirt and stand over the toilet like Emily did. I piss, but not as magnificently as Emily. She takes some pictures for our phones.“Did you like that?”, I ask.“Oh, Morgan, you know I liked it. Didn’t you like my piss?”,. She is not going to do this. In front of a bunch of boys? Ones she knows? Ones she will have to look in the face again. No fucking way.He has to make her finish him off. Her mind is not on the job. When he finally does cum he snorts with a little sound of disgust."Well that was lousy."He pushes her off him roughly enough that she falls off him. Landing on her back on the pillows and blankets."Well then don't ask me things I can't do... Master." the last barely added.Then she cannot believe what. "I kneeled before the new marble slab, shiny with the dampness, and read the sharply chiseled inscription:And this was my belovedSara Jane LaneWife of Tom, Mother of Sara AnneForever part of their hearts1976 — 2006My thoughts wandered to the small gathering yesterday afternoon under the weeping tree, sadly huddled together under the misty, cold drizzle of an afternoon rain in the mountains of Idaho. I sat there under a small canopy, Annie on my lap, looking at the pine box as the pastor droned.
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