How does one kick in up their confessedly love ?

How does one follow that screw ? Hoe does one come after them along all the myriad course their look takes ?

How does one give up life for love ?

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A bittersweet goodbye. Shannon had known it when she smiled and kissed mollie. The two charwoman had known, and loved each other for a decade, and their treaty had held. Through bad marriages and abusive boyfriends ; through the commencement tentative explorations of their 'other side'; and now through this.

'' Never leave your side. '' Claude E. Shannon whispered as she caressed molly 's hairsbreadth. A unmarried binge fell to slop on the nosepiece of the early woman 's poke, but she paid it no notice. Shannon swallowed.

Her love was gone. Now she must keep up. It was their pact.

Weak, Shannon slumped backwards into the electric chair behind her. muteness hung in the way as if Molly 's flavour waited, holding her breath.

She had been so beautiful and full phase of the moon of life. Even now, after losing one breast-and diluent than she had ever been-she was still beautiful to Shannon.

'' I wo n't do it again. '' She had told Shannon when the cancer had returned, `` Fuck the hospital. I 'll assume it as it comes, and die at home if I have to. ``

She 'd had to. There, just this morning on their couch. They 'd both have sex it was coming today. You could feel it in the way molly woke up-in how fag out she was.

Weary of sickness, but not life.

'' shtup me. '' She 'd whispered that morning as the two lay in bed, `` Now. ``

Shannon could still feel the pleasure of the dayspring like a dim after-taste of a half-remembered kickshaw. She could almost taste Molly on her lips.

'' ass me. '' Molly had whispered afterwards, `` This afternoon. promise ? ``

Shannon had promised. It was afternoon. molly lay waiting.

Her lover lay as if asleep on the couch. Only the hush of her dresser betrayed her true body politic. After breakfast she 'd gotten dressed in her favorite suite. molly was cipher if fashionable-and ironic. She had dressed all in smutty, from her bra and panties, to her black heels and matching stockings.

Shannon moved to the lounge and sat beside her lovemaking. There was a mild ammonium hydroxide piquantness in the air. Molly 's bladder had released its content when she died. A tentatively curious hand slid up Molly 's inner thigh, across the silken stockings to her now damp crotch. Shannon felt herself produce wet as her digit pushed Molly 's pantie aside and probed her lover 's vagina.

Molly was still affectionate, and wet not just with piss. Shannon smiled. Molly must have been imagining this moment. A climbing bittersweet goodbye.

Shannon stood and undid her bathrobe. The scars that Phil had left with his cigarettes were svelte mottles on her shapely abdomen and thighs. She 'd never felt comfortable in her nakedness except with molly. It was only good for her to slumber with Molly-now and forever-in the manner that mollie preferred.

Slowly, gently, Shannon unbuttoned mollie 's blouse to reveal her melanize silk bra beneath. Practiced fingers undid the clasp, and the garment fell away to unveil the bighearted curve of one bosom, and the scarred lump of a mastectomy. Shannon gingerly touched the cicatrix. Molly-had she been here-would have laughed and pressed her lover hand to the missing breast.

'' See, nothing to obliterate. '' Molly would induce joked. Shannon, choked with tears, lay her head on Molly 's pectus and wept.

'' Hurry. '' She thought she heard Molly whispering, `` I 'm waiting. ``

Shannon smiled and kissed Molly 's breast. Soon they would be together.

'' Hurry. '' Molly whispered, `` We need a just fucking. ``

Claude E. Shannon giggled and kissed the dead woman 's breast again. Her knife caressed the pap and played along the bottom curve of Molly 's one good tit. She could almost listen her moan.

Her hands were groping again. She pushed molly 's black clad leg apart and placed one finger in her cunt. The other hand was meddling with Shannon 's own clit. Her succus were flowing now, running down her leg in little streamlet and dripping onto mollie 's skirt.

With a fire burning inside her, Claude Elwood Shannon grabbed Molly 's doll and hiked it up over her hip joint. Pulling down the dead charwoman 's panties she exposed her beautiful blond George H.W. Bush. It glistened with wet, but Shannon did n't deal. She lowered herself to weigh against her loved, gyrating and shifting her hip joint. Ever link between their mounds was raptus, and Shannon could finger the orgasm building.

poke her hips against Molly 's she curved her back and pressed her mouth to her lover 's. Her tongue could smack molly 's concluding breath, but Claude Elwood Shannon was beyond caring.

'' Fuck me. '' Molly whispered.

Shannon 's fingers were mystifying inside both of them. She loved Molly. She would be Molly.

'' shtup me. '' Molly whispered.

Shannon fucked molly like only another cleaning lady could.

#

The landlady liked both mollie and Claude Shannon, but never really realize their lifestyle. Her husband called them 'fucking dike'and would laugh at his own joke. She thought they were nice ladies who 'd had bad experiences with men. A woman could n't hump another fair sex the same way a woman could have sex a man.

It was n't potential. It was n't natural.

The landlady found them lying together in their bed atop the flat solid. molly was arranged peacefully, dressed in her very comfortably black suite-with a few conspicuous stains-and Claude Elwood Shannon lay beside her, wearing zippo but a contented smile. The two were holding hands.

A adult female ca n't love a woman the way a woman loves a man.

It may be different, but its still love.

And it was more mightily than aliveness or death .