” He said. I knew it would do no good to put it on over my sopping wet blouse so I turned away and unbuttoned it. I looked down at the tattoo on my ...eft breast. It was of a purple butterfly. Christina had loved to chase them in our backyard and purple was her favorite color. A flashback of my baby girl laying in her casket in a long lavender gauzy dress invaded my mind for a second and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. The memories always haunted me, there was only one way to escape them,. He kept sucking her nipples and pressed her breasts. She turned her face to the side.As her breast got harder, he slowly removed her petticoat, lowered her pantie and put his hand near her vagina. He rubbed his fingers on her vagina tip. 12 years of her widow life dominated her needs. Her mind and body had lost control over the temptation of a man’s touch and she became wet.He stopped sucking her nipples, raised his head, came near her ear and whispered: “Oh Shanti ji, I knew you were missing. More

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