textfiles/sex/EROTICA/F/funeral.txt

                                 Funeral
       by
                             S. B. Douglass
 
                                  1991
 
                  This work may be redistributed freely
                  over USENET and connected networks.
 
Ken was nervous as he stood at the back of the chapel.  He'd been
to other funerals, but this one would be different.  The chapel
wasn't full, but it was well filled as the soothing music ended
and Bob Fuller walked up to the casket.
 
"Ladies and gentlemen," Bob began, using the lid of the closed
coffin as a lectern of sorts.  The low murmur of conversation
ceased.  "Rick McCleary asked me to say a few words here, and so
I'm speaking to you now.  I knew Rick and Anne well, but not so
well as I would have liked.  As most of you know, Rick knew he
was going to die more than a year ago, and many of you know that
this last year has been harder on those of us who know Rick than
it was on him.  I don't know that I'd have the strength to take
things in the calm way he did, and I'm sure I'm a better man for
having known him.
 
"Before he died, Rick made some very special requests of some of
us, and as his minister, he consulted me on some of these re-
quests.  I'm afraid that some of his requests may shock some of
you, I know they shocked me when the two of us first talked about
this together.  Anyway, after hesitating a long time, I agreed to
go along with his wishes, and so, here I am.
 
"Ken, Anne, would you and the other pallbearers come forward?"
 
Ken walked to his place at the side of the coffin, opposite Anne.
She smiled a thin smile at him, then took her place opposite him
and next to the minister; the other pallbearers, two men and two
women, all good friends of Ken and Anne, took their places by the
sides of the coffin.
 
"Normally," Bob Fuller said, addressing everyone.  "Normally, I'd
have objected to Rick's idea of playing a tape of him at his
funeral.  It's usually something egotistical and tacky, but this
time, I agreed to do it because of his special wish.  Here it
is."
 
Bob Fuller walked over to the side of the room and pushed a
button on a tape player.  As he came back to his place at the
head of the coffin, Rick's recorded voice filled the room.  Ken
was a unnerved by the sound of Rick's voice.  It wasn't the weak
voice of a dying man he had heard the week before, but the strong
healthy voice he'd almost forgotten.  He guessed that the tape
must have been made months ago.
 
"Friends," Rick said, and then paused.  "I suppose if you're
listening to this, I must be dead.  Sorry, I don't mean to sound
so corny.  Well, if everything goes as I planned, Al, Beth, Fred
and Ellen should be around my coffin right now.  I asked you four
to serve as pallbearers for two reasons.  First, you are my good
friends, and second, you are all good friends of Ken and my wife
Anne, who should be serving as the other two pallbearers.
 
"Anne, my love of ten years, I suppose I've been a real pain this
last year, and in a way, I'm glad for you that it's over at last.
I know it's awfully unconventional to ask the widow at a funeral
to serve as a pallbearer, but I'm glad you agreed to do it.  I
know enough about what you like to have felt awful about what
I've denied you, and, well, to be blunt, if you've been unfaith-
ful during my illness, thank you for being discrete, and I hope
it was with Ken."
 
Ken glanced nervously at Anne, wondering what had come over Rick
to make him record such an odd tape and why Bob had decided to
play it.
 
"Ken," Rick went on.  "I've known you longer than I've known
Anne.  Remember long ago, long before I got sick, we were joking
about things, and you said that, if it hadn't been for me, you'd
probably be going after Anne?  In a way, that's what inspired
this whole idea of mine.  Some of you might call it a damned
idea, and maybe it is."
 
While Rick's recorded voice spoke, Ken wondered what he had in
mind.  He'd had some pretty weird talks with Rick after he got
sick, and on at least two occasions, Rick had more than hinted
that Anne and Ken should get together.  Ken had agreed with him,
to quiet him down, but he hadn't followed through and actually
approached Anne.  He really was in love with her, but at an
honorable distance.  Just the same, he was more than a bit un-
nerved by Rick's open discussion of his interest in Anne.
 
Rick continued.  "I've spoken to many of you about my hopes for
what would happen after I die, but I haven't told my entire plan
to anyone, that is, anyone other than Reverend Fuller.  He didn't
like my idea at first, but if he's playing this tape for you, he
must have agreed to it at last.  I hope so, because I did my best
to talk him into it.
 
"Anyway, Anne, You also told me once that if it hadn't been for
me, you thought Ken was as close to your dream man as they come.
You know I don't like mourning, we've mourned together for more
than a year, ever since I found out that my condition was termi-
nal.  Enough mourning!  You know I didn't really want a funeral
at all, I'm dead now, it doesn't do me any good.  You folks who
are still alive can remember me if you want, but don't be sad
about it!  Celebrate what I accomplished, if you wish, but spend
your time looking forward to a fun future, and while you're here,
make friends, renew acquaintances, and enjoy yourselves.
 
"With that in mind, I've asked the Reverend to spend some of my
money and book a place for dinner after you've planted my re-
mains, but before you do that, I've got some business in mind."
 
While Rick's voice paused, Ken realized that he was looking idly
at Anne.  He'd never known that Anne had any romantic interest in
him after she married Rick, although she'd occasionally teased
him and she'd always been a very open and friendly woman.  As
what Rick had said sunk in, Anne smiled weakly at Ken from across
the casket, then looked down at her hands as if she might be a
bit embarrassed.
 
Rick thought that she looked pretty, dressed in a black dress
that he at first thought looked very modest.  The dress had long
sleeves and a long hemline, and Anne wore the cowl neck of the
dress up over her head.  As Ken looked more closely, Ken realized
that the dress clung revealingly to her slim figure, it was not
merely pretty, it was sexy, and it was only the black color that
made it discrete.
 
"Ken," Rick's recorded voice continued.  "Do you really want to
marry Anne?  If you do, and if she's interested, do it now!
Right here.
 
"Anne.  Please don't mourn my passing.  If you have anyone else
you'd like to love, don't let my memory get in the way.  If you
think it would be fun to marry Ken right now, do it!  I've asked
the Reverend, and he's agreed to do it under one condition, that
is, that I give both of you a way out if you don't like my idea."
 
Rick's recorded voice paused again while Ken tried to deal with
the shock of what he'd said.  Ken had never thought of himself as
a very proper person, but his sense of propriety was offended by
the idea of getting married to the widow at a funeral.  Even so,
as he looked up at Anne's shocked face, he felt tempted to do it.
 
"Here it is, and these are the last words I've recorded.  I've
asked the organist to play a meditative interlude when this tape
ends, and I invite you two to whisper over the casket, consulting
with the Reverend if you want.  When the interlude's over, you're
free to get married if you want, or free to go home single.
 
"You know how I'd like this to turn out, but let me say one more
thing.  Don't worry about satisfying me, I'm dead.  Satisfy
yourselves.  That goes for all of you who are here for my funer-
al!  Bye folks!"
 
The recording ended, and as promised, the organist began to play
something that was quiet enough to allow whispered conversation
and loud enough to mask the sound of such a conversation from
anyone else who might try to listen in.
 
"This is the craziest darned thing I've ever heard of," Ken
whispered.
 
"You're not kidding," Anne whispered in reply.  She paused and
then went on.  "It's just like Rick, though, you know that?"
 
Ken looked down at his fingers on the lid of the coffin.  "Right.
So what should we do?"
 
"Do we have any choice?" she asked.
 
"I guess it depends," he whispered.
 
"On what?"
 
"On us.  When Rick first suggested that I start courting you
behind his back, I was offended by the idea, it just seemed so
wrong."
 
"I know what you mean," she whispered as the music continued.
"Rick told me I should be flirting with you.  I guess I took it
as a kind of joke at the time, but..."
 
Ken paused to let her continue, but when she didn't, he did.
"But what?  The truth is, I didn't follow up then, but in a few
months, after things settle down, after you've had a decent time
to get over Rick, I was thinking of calling on you."
 
She smiled quietly and reached over to put her hand on his.  "I
was only going to wait a few weeks before I called you."
 
"OK," Ken whispered, smiling faintly.  "But I don't like being
manipulated like this.  I liked Rick a lot, but in a way, I
resent what he's suggesting."
 
"Me too," she said, "but is it really manipulation when someone
tells you to do something you already want to do?"
 
She broke off, as if startled by what she'd just said, and it
took a long moment for Ken to realize her full meaning.  He
looked at her as her smile broadened, and then she leaned forward
to whisper.  "Want to do it?"
 
Ken looked at the mischievous twinkle in her eye, stunned, and
then smiled as he realized that it would be a fitting memorial to
Rick.  "OK."
 
She motioned to Bob Fuller and whispered something in his ear,
and judging by his expression, he asked her a question, to which
she replied at length, glancing at Ken as she spoke.  Bob looked
up at Ken and smiled, then leaned his way.  "You really want to
go through with it?"
 
"Yes," Ken whispered.
 
"OK," Bob Fuller said, and then stood up straight at the head of
the casket and looked meditatively down at his hands while the
soft music continued.  Ken tried to do the same, but he couldn't
keep his eyes off Anne, and when he looked at her, he saw that
her eyes were on him and that she had a faint smile on her lips.
 
As the music came to an end, Bob Fuller stood straight.  "Well
folks, we've all agreed, so this will be more than just a funer-
al.  Anne Smith McCleary, I've had long talks with you while your
husband was ill, and I know that you know Kenneth Anderson quite
well and you've known him for a long time.  Do you take Ken to be
your lawful wedded husband?"
 
"I do," she said, faintly but clearly.
 
"Kenneth Anderson, do you take Anne McCleary to be your lawful
wedded wife?"
 
"I do," he said, shaking his head with wonder.
 
"Then I pronounce you man and wife," Bob Fuller said.  "Rick
asked me to make a specific request at this point.  He asked me
to ask that you two kiss each other over his dead body, to be
quite literal."
 
There was a nervous chuckle from more than one person in the
chapel as Ken reached across the coffin to Anne and took her
hand, and then leaned over to kiss her.
 
"Anne," Bob Fuller said, after they'd kissed.  "Ken.  I've known
the two of you for some years now, and I've known you were close
friends.  Ken, you were Rick's roommate when he was courting
Anne, but if Rick hadn't set this up, I'd never have imagined
things working out like this.  Social convention would have you
two waiting a good six months after the funeral, but you know
what?  I figured that you two would marry then, and I think Rick
really is right, it's better that you two should comfort each
other.  My blessings go with you."
 
The organist started playing a march as the pallbearers picked up
the coffin, but it wasn't a funeral march, it was a wedding
march, slow and dignified, but full of joy.
 
                                 ----
 
"Sorry about the mess," Ken said, opening the door to his apart-
ment.
 
"You should see my mess," Anne said.  "I don't really look for-
ward to going through all of Rick's stuff, that's one reason I
said we should come to your place."
 
Ken paused after he shut the door.  Somehow, his thoughts all
afternoon had been dominated by the excitement of sharing some-
thing daring with Anne, and her mention of Rick's stuff was
shattering.
 
"Anne," he said, and then hesitated.  "Anne, what can I do to
help?"
 
She walked silently into the middle of his living room and looked
around briefly before turning to face him with a sigh.  "Tomorrow
you can help me go over Rick's stuff, separating the trash from
the keepsakes from the rest."  Her expression clouded briefly.
"I guess the rest goes to Goodwill or the crisis center."
 
She paused, looking at Ken, then grinned.  "Third, make that the
day after tomorrow or later!  These last few weeks have been
hell, and I need to totally wrap myself up in something else for
a while.  Help me do that, will you?"
 
Ken wasn't entirely sure he was ready to face what she had in
mind as he took her long coat and hung it in the closet by the
door.  When he looked back at her, he almost did a double take.
She'd changed the way she wore her dress again.  At the funeral
service she'd worn the cowl of her long black dress up over her
head, looking properly like a modest if slim and beautiful widow.
At the dinner party Rick had set up for after the burial, she'd
worn the cowl down around her neck, but now, she'd pulled it down
off her shoulders so the cowl formed a tight band around her
upper arms and over her breasts.
 
She smiled at his attention and posed.  "Like this?"
 
"Yes, that's quite a dress."
 
She grinned.  "Would you believe Rick bought it for me six months
ago?  He got it specifically for the funeral!"
 
Ken shook his head and then chuckled.  "So he did it to you too?
This is the suit he told me to wear!"
 
"I like it," she said, and then hugged him.
 
Ken enjoyed her hug and returned it warmly, enjoying the soft
inviting texture of her dress under his hands and the warmth of
her skin under it.  As he swept his hands slowly down her back,
he grew uncomfortably aware of her.  Her hips were pressed
against his, and as his hand swept from her back to her hip, he
could feel nothing to hint that she wore anything under the
dress.
 
"What a day!" Ken said, breaking the hug and sitting on the
couch.
 
"Is something wrong?" Anne asked, sitting next to him.
 
"I don't know," he said, putting his arm around Anne's shoulder
more because the way she sat demanded it than because he felt
comfortable doing it.  "It's been a long day, and I'm, well, I'm
not really prepared for the way it turned out."
 
She laughed gently.  "I certainly never expected to get married
at my husband's funeral, but I'm glad I did.  Come on, it's not
that late in the evening, and although we've known each other for
a decade, we've got a bit of work to do getting to know each
other."
 
Ken blushed.  "I thought you might want to be alone.  Are you
sure you want..."
 
"Ken," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder and speak-
ing in a soft, sad voice.  "I've been alone and lonely too much
these last few months, what with Rick in the hospital and all.
Every night I slept alone, I had to face the fact that my husband
was dying, and towards the end, it was awfully hard on me each
time I visited him."
 
"He was my friend too," Ken said, remembering how Rick had
changed towards the end of his hospice stay.  "So what do you
want to do with the rest of our evening."
 
"For now, just hold me like you are, make me feel secure."
 
Her head was resting against his shoulder, with his arm around
her and his hand resting gently on her hip.  As she nestled
against him, she reached out with her free hand and held his free
hand to her stomach, stroking his wrist with her fingers.
 
"You know," she said, "sometimes, when Rick and I had a disagree-
ment, I used to wonder how things would have worked out if I'd
married you instead of him.  Sometimes, I'd fantasize about
having an affair with you, or making love to you.  How about
you?"
 
Ken was slowly relaxing under her touch, letting his hand rest
against the warmth of her stomach as she stroked his wrist.  "I
don't know, I guess I suppressed those kinds of thoughts, I
didn't want to hurt my best friends by threatening their mar-
riage."
 
"But you had thoughts to suppress."
 
"Yes, you're very desirable, you know.  I guess I always hoped
I'd find another girl who was as bright and pretty as you, but
nobody ever came close."
 
Her hand on his wrist gently urged him to shift his hand upward,
and now he found his thumb occasionally brushing the bottom of
her soft breast.  "I like the way you're holding me," she said,
in a quiet voice.  "Do you mind if I ask you how much experience
you've had with other girls?  I mean, you introduced Rick and me
to a few of the girls you dated, but you never seemed to stay
with any of them for long."
 
"Do you mean, am I still a virgin?" he asked, tensing up.
 
"No, I just wondered why you never found anyone.  No, that's not
really right, I guess I wanted to balance things.  I mean, Rick's
name keeps coming up, and I thought that was unfair to you."  She
was sounding flustered.  "Oh hell, I guess I also wondered about
your sex life.  Hold me!"
 
She pulled his hand up to her breast and held it there with her
hand while she continued to nestle her head against his shoulder.
He could feel her hard nipple through the tight band of her
turned down cowl, and the tip of his thumb rested against the
exposed flesh of her chest above her dress.  He slid his other
hand up to cup her other breast before he went on.
 
"All right," he said, and then paused.  The last time the topic
had come up between the two of them must have been back when
they'd dated each other, more than a decade ago.  Ken had been a
virgin then, and so had Anne.  "No, I've had sex with a couple of
the girls I've dated; should I name names?  Oh hell, I've got to
live with you now, remember Karen?  We slept together on and off
for a couple of years."
 
"Was she good?" Anne asked, gently stroking his wrist as he
cupped her breasts in his hands.
 
"Good?  I liked her, I liked sex with her, we had lots of fun,
but..."  He paused, wondering how to go on as he gently began to
fondle Anne's breast.  "I guess she wanted lots of independence,
and I gave it to her.  We never even mentioned marriage."
 
Anne sighed comfortably as he gently slid his hand over her
breast, and he wondered if she wanted him to slip his hand under
her dress.  The way she'd folded her cowl down was inviting, and
he wondered how it would feel to slide his hand over her bare
breast and hard nipple.  He slid his hand up and gently ran a
finger along the rolled top edge of her dress, letting it trail
under the edge a fraction of an inch.
 
She patted his hand with hers, then pulled at the fabric of her
dress, opening an inviting gap between fabric and flesh.  He slid
his hands down over the rounded flesh of her breasts, feeling her
nipples between his fingers as he cradled her soft small breasts
under the tight band of her turned down cowl.
 
"So how do you like sex," she asked, speaking softly as she held
his hands to her breasts.
 
"I like it," he said, sliding one hand down to her stomach be-
neath the elastic fabric.  "How do you mean?"
 
"What do you like doing?"
 
"Kissing, hugging, touching, intercourse, it's all fun..."  He
was comfortably aware of the building pressure in his penis.  "I
guess we didn't really try very many ways of doing it.  Karen and
I didn't talk about sex much, we just did it.  Cindy, well, she
liked talking about sex, but we didn't stay together very long."
 
"Then maybe..." Anne said, and then paused.  Without warning, she
eased his hands out from under her dress and got up from the
couch.  She turned to face him, and then spoke in a low uncertain
voice.  "Let me undress you, OK?"
 
"OK," Ken said, excited by the prospect of being undressed by the
woman he'd loved at a distance for so long, but frustrated that
she'd pulled away from his hands.  "Rick and I tried everything
in the book," she said, undoing his tie.  "You know the kind of
man he was, always wanting to try things.  Well, that applied to
sex and we tried quite a bit.  Just about all of it was worth the
effort, and I think, right now, I'd like to surprise you."
 
Anne undid his shirt, kissing his chest and sucking on his nip-
ples as she exposed them.  He'd never really paid attention to
the sexual possibilities of his own nipples before, and he was
surprised to find himself reacting to her attention.  His hands
were on her shoulders, and again, he slid his hands down under
the elastic fabric of her dress, sliding his fingers over her
muscular back and down to the sides of her breasts.
 
He cooperated passively as she pulled his shirt off and set it
aside, but then he realized that it would be fun to take a turn
undressing her.  "Can I take your dress off?" he asked.
 
"OK," she said, standing in front of him."
 
"How does it come off?"
 
"Pull down."
 
He sat up and reached tentatively forward to hold Anne's thighs
between his hands, then paused for a minute looking at her as she
stood in front of him.  She was a beautiful woman.  He tentative-
ly slid his hands up her hips to her waist and then up to the
sides of her chest where he took the edge of her knit cowl in his
hands.
 
He tugged on the turned down cowl and pulled it down to expose
her breasts.  They were small but pretty, not big enough to sag,
with large brown areolas surrounding her nipples.  He let go of
her dress to gently touch them, and then pulled the dress down
farther so he could free her arms from the sleeves.
 
"May I kiss you?" he asked, looking at her breasts.
 
"You don't have to ask," she said.
 
He sat forward and gently touched his lips to her nipple while he
held her hips in his hands.  She held his shoulders in her hands,
gently pulling him to her, and after gently kissing her other
nipple, he went back to the first, touching the velvet soft skin
of her areola with his tongue as he savored the smell and taste
of the woman he had known and loved from a distance for so long.
 
As he kissed her, he ran his hands over the soft fabric of the
dress that still covered her fanny.  Again, he felt no hint of
underwear through her dress and again he hesitated.  Her nipples
were hard between his lips, and he was content, for the moment,
to concentrate his attention on them as she ran her hands through
his hair and down the skin of his back.
 
"You can slip my dress off, if you want," Anne said.
 
Ken let go of Anne's nipple as he slid his hands up to the turned
down top of her dress.  He pushed down, letting his fingers slide
over her smooth skin as she slid the elastic cloth down over her
rounded bottom.
 
"You're really not wearing anything under this dress?" he asked,
admiring the smooth curve of her belly and the neatly trimmed
patch of pubic hair between her legs.
 
"Nope," she said, stepping out of the dress as it slid down
around her ankles.  "With dresses like this one, anything you
wear under them shows.  You know, panty lines, that kind of
thing.  I could have worn panty hose, I suppose, but with a long
dress, it doesn't seem to serve any purpose."  She paused.
"Besides, Rick always liked it when I went without underwear; I
hope you don't mind."
 
Ken looked at her as she stood in front of him, admiring the
clean lines of her body.  "No, I don't mind.  I never
imagined..."  He stopped, unsure what to say.
 
She knelt in front of him as he sat on the couch.  "Come on,
let's get back to getting to know each other.  Stand up so I can
finish undressing you."
 
He stood up and she took his hips in her hands and kissed his
belly, just above the belt, then leaned back so she could see
what she was doing as she undid the buckle.  He was acutely aware
of his erect penis, only inches from her face as she opened his
belt and began to undo his pants.
 
"You smell nice," she said, brushing her nose against the bulge
in his shorts as she slid his pants down.
 
"I do?" Ken said, surprised.
 
"You do!" she said, smiling as she pulling his shorts down to
free him.  "I always liked the smell and taste of Rick.  Come on,
sit down and relax."
 
                                 ----
 
"Good morning," she said, and Ken was disoriented for a moment.
He opened his eyes and yawned while he tried to focus.  Anne was
sitting up on the bed beside him, resting her hand lightly on his
chest and looking at him with a faint but pleasant smile on her
face.
 
"Good morning," he said, remembering the events of the day be-
fore.  Between the funeral that had turned into his wedding and
Anne's interest in oral sex, he was surprised that he'd apparent-
ly managed to get a sound night's sleep.
 
She leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss.  "Want to play around
a bit before breakfast?"
 
The idea was tempting, but Ken wasn't sure he was ready.  "No,
I've got to piss, then let's get dressed and eat."
 
"Don't get dressed," Anne said as Ken sat up in bed.  "I've been
thinking about this since I woke up.  We've got to get used to
each other's bodies, and what better way to do that is there than
to spend the day nude with each other?"
 
"Nude isn't always romantic," Ken said.
 
"No, but so what?  The point is to get over being shy with each
other."
 
Ken chuckled.  "If that's what you want, you should ask to watch
me while I piss."
 
"OK," she said, surprising him.  "Rick and I always kept the
bathroom a private place, but..."
 
"I didn't mean to seriously suggest..." he protested.
 
"I don't care if you meant it," she said.  "It's a good idea.
Come on, go pee, I'll watch."
 
Ken got out of bed and went to the bathroom, with Anne following
close behind.  He felt awkward as he lifted the toilet lid and
began to piss, but she broke the ice with a nervous giggle.
 
"You know something?  I always knew men pissed standing up, but
I've never seen it done.  Do you ever miss the toilet?"
 
"I've had plenty of practice," he said, shaking the last drop off
his penis and flushing the toilet.
 
"I suppose so," she said, sitting down.  "Still, it seems odd.
Want to split a shower with me before we eat?"
 
"Sure," he said, noticing the warm musky smell as she pissed.
The smell was very familiar, but it was a while before he could
remember why.  It was a smell he remembered from his childhood,
the smell of his bathroom after his mother had used it.
 
Five minutes later, they were in the shower together.  After they
were both wet, Anne turned off the water and then handed Ken the
soap.  He lathered up his hands and then began soaping her wet
skin, starting at the neck and working his way down.  Sliding his
wet hands over her soft breasts was fun, and by the time he was
soaping her fanny, he had a mild erection.
 
"Don't be shy about my crotch," she said, gently resting her
hands on his shoulders as he knelt in the tub in front of her.
 
He realized he'd been avoiding sliding his soapy hands into her
crotch, and even with her urging, he hesitated for a moment
longer.  Finally, he slid his hand up between her legs and cupped
her pubic bone, working soap into her pubic hair before he slid
his hand back to clean her soft lips and farther back between her
cheeks.
 
"Did you and Rick do this often?" Ken asked, tentatively explor-
ing the warm cleft between her lips.
 
"That feels nice," she said with a sigh.  "No, it's fun, but most
tubs and showers aren't really built for two."
 
He didn't linger long with his fingers inside her, she was right
that the tub wasn't a very convenient place for such play, and
kneeling in front of her on the hard tub began to hurt his knees.
Even so, he was very erect as he finished soaping her legs down
to her feet and then stood up to let her soap him.  He expected
her to soap him as he'd soaped her, using her hands, but she
surprised him, using her soapy body to do the job.  She hugged
him tightly in her soapy arms, sliding her body against his, and
only when she'd covered half of his body with soap that way did
she let go and use her hands.
 
After they'd rinsed and dried each other off, Ken hugged Anne,
kissing her as he enjoyed the pressure of her breasts against his
chest and the feel of her pubic hair against his still-erect
penis.  She ran her fingers over his back while his hands rested
on the rounded mounds of her fanny.
 
After a long deep kiss on the mouth, Ken began gently kissing
Anne's cheeks and earlobes.  His lips tingled slightly with his
excitement as he touched her smooth skin and gently nibbled on
her earlobes, and each gentle kiss Anne planted on his shoulder
seemed to stick there long after she'd moved on to other places.
 
"Let's go back to bed," she whispered, between kisses.
 
He turned, holding her tightly as they walked back to the bed-
room.  Ken pulled down the covers with one hand and sat on the
edge of the bed, still holding Anne's waist.  Her left breast was
there, so he kissed it as she began to sit, and followed her
down, never letting go with his mouth as she spread herself out
on the bed.