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I got so hot that my fingers were soon buried in my panties and rubbing my pussy like never before. I had been wet before, but it was slick like it was oiled and I was massaging with my finger tips as fast as I could. I let the tips of my finger dip deep into me and drag more of the wetness out to coat my labia with. I didn't have to muffle my orgasm much because Mom made enough noise for the both of us.I shook my head and came back to the present. Dad and I did a little more homework and then we watched some TV. I was cuddled up next to him on the couch and more listening to the wind picking up than watching the TV show. Bedtime came only too soon and I washed my face, took off the shorts and climbed into bed. Daddy came in to kiss me good night and I said, "I hope that there isn't any lightning and thunder." It'll be fine, Baby, a little thunder won't hurt us any."I said, "Okay." But really wasn't buying any of that nonsense. I said nothing more, but thought, "If I get scared. Understood?” They agreed.It was an adjustment. I took them on a tour of my house, and introduced them to Miss Agnes. “She’s watching, and she can be cranky. Best not upset her.” They both looked at me funny, but after that, every time they came over, they greeted her, and told her goodbye when they left. I rarely went up into the attic, but one day I went to check on the heat ducts, and saw it. Her wedding album. I could swear it wasn’t there the last time I was up. Agnes was a knockout when she was young. Before I knew it, I was talking.“Gee Agnes, you were hot! I bet your husband was the envy of every male in town.” I felt a soft sigh go through the attic. Wind, most likely. A box fell off a shelf. I picked it up and opened it. Love letters from each other while he served in WW1. A picture of him in his uniform. His medals. One of her with their first child. Her letters were lyrical, and downright erotic for the time. I grinned.“Agnes, Agnes, I bet these warmed up the trenches he.
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