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exuberance youve kindled in her. However, Ive noticed her sparkle has dramatically dulled since youve been gone. I need Laura, you need Laura and Laura needs both of us, so the answer is quite simple. Baring any huge cultural differences in living here in Quebec, I think we could all be happy here together." Not wanting to seem too anxious, I tried my best to bring up a few more negative thoughts, but they were quickly overshadowed by the realization that back home and retired, with little to do, Doug would drive me crazy. I reminded him it might not be that easy to leave our home, our children and our lives behind, to which he replied, "Perhaps then, a trial period of say a year, might be a good idea," and then added, "If youre sure the neighbors could live with it, if they found out about our little secret, I think we should seal the deal." As we had a group hug, Louise suddenly exclaimed, "Thats absolutely perfect, Our Little Secret is what well call the business!" In the next breath she continued, "Ill get a sign made for the front lawn and put brochures in the malls and well need an Hotmail address in that name." Over the rest of the visit, Louise and I wandered through the shops down in Huntingdon while Doug explored the area. He seemed infatuated with Lake St. Francis, I suppose because it was reminiscent of Lake Ontario. On our drive back home, he behaved himself admirably, deep in thought. By the end of the following week, he informed me everything was under control. The conniving old fool had talked our kids into moving into the Marina condo for the year. Erin had an opportunity for a good job with GM and Michael would be graduated from university and entering the work force after the New Year. When Louise confirmed shed set up as an email address, I realized our lives had shifted to a new plateau. Doug studied Louises plans for our apartment and came to the conclusion all we really needed were our personal possessions and clothes, plus some furniture. Since the doctor suggested that the head of our bed be raised to help his condition, Doug decided to leave the waterbed behind and build a new bed himself for the apartment. He labored lovingly much of September, on building his king-sized captains bed. However, all of that sawing and sanding left many little cuts and sliver rips on his soft hands. Every time he touched my tender bits, his fingers felt like poker-hot sandpaper sticks. Hand crème soothed his skin, but did little to cool down his touch. Sorting through old keepsakes one day, I found my wedding dress. In a little plastic bag were my bridal veil, stockings, a spare garter, silky French-cut panties plus my sheer white nylon gloves. I decided for Doug that he needed a break from sanding the headboard, so I undressed and laid out my bridal accessories. I



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put on the gloves first so that I couldnt catch a run in my nylons and tugged them on. I still loved the sensual thrill of nylon stockings shivering up my legs, but with the gloves on, I couldnt feel the roughness of my nails or the heat from my fingers on my legs. My fingers felt cool and detached, almost like someone else was dressing me. I stepped into and slid up my shiny white panties. Then for the first time in twenty-six years, I felt a lacy garter squeeze up my thigh. As I smoothed out the wrinkles on my veil, dabbed some of Dougs favorite perfume in the usual places and called down to him. . Surprisingly, he was at the bedroom door in no time. He was puffing a bit from climbing all those stairs, but his eyes were sparkling in wonderment at the vision of his blushing bride. He was smitten by the time my perfume hooked into his nostrils. Entranced by my seductive spell, his eyes burned over every inch of my body, as he walked slowly toward me. I held out one hand like a crossing guard, stopped him in his tracks and told him, "Not with those rough hands, Buster!" I pulled off my left glove, guided it onto his scratchy fingers and stretched it halfway up his big palm. His expression was priceless but when I unbuttoned his shirt and tugged down his track pants, he was dumbstruck. However, when my trousseau-gloved fingertips glided across his chest, around his nipples and tickled down his belly, he shivered in delight. When he felt my silken fingers slip down into his under shorts and swirl all over his half-aroused penis, he immediately got the message. Backing up, I enticed him along by ever so lightly kneading his penis. When my calves bumped into something behind me, my knees buckled and I fell right back into bed. Doug was laying beside me in an instant, polishing my breasts and coolly tickling my nipples blush pink with my glove. I saw his wide-open mouth lunge toward my left nipple and felt his cheeks suction my aureole between his teeth. As his teeth clamped tighter and tighter on the base of my teat, my clit tingled. I felt his quick, cool swirl shiver around my right nipple and then whisk up my neck to my ear lobe. It swept back down my chest and then gave my swollen teat a silken little twist. Next, I felt his fingertips fan down my belly, slip right under my panties waistband and scoot over my pubes. As I polished his corona shiny and purple, he went right in for the kill! I felt one fingertip plow right down through my furrow, then press firmly into my pussy. Ten seconds of steady pressure relaxed my vulva and I felt the silkiness sink into my little well. I felt a few raspy double-finger swishes froth me up and I quivered in delight as he