On the drive over to the garage, I told Anne that I wanted to propose to her mother. I wanted to get down one knee with a ring, but I wanted it to be ...he right ring. After dad passed away, mom gave me the ring dad gave to her. I wanted to use Mom’s ring to propose, but I knew some women didn’t like the idea of “recycled” jewelry. Would her mother want a ring that was my mother’s or would she want her own ring? Anne wasn’t sure what her mother would want. However, she speculated a “recycled”. ” Your finger pushes all the way in to the knuckle, seeking out the bundle of nerves around my prostate. “I’m a pro. Trust me?”“Don’t have any choice,” I grit out. “I’m kinda… compromised right now.”“Oh stop being dramatic. It’ll feel amazing in a sec.”You start out slow, pumping your finger carefully, rotating in small circles over several minutes until, satisfied, you pull it back out.A throaty moan sounds behind me as a metal buckle clicks into place.I flinch.“Fuck. I love a good. More

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