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Her gagged mouth means she’s breathing through her nose, smelling her daughter. Keeping our faces right up to her ass, I grab the pants with both hands, right in the center, and I pull sharply. A loud tearing sound. I pull apart again. A small hole in the seam of her crotch. Again, slowly revealing more and more. With my face an inch away, I immediately catch a pleasant whiff of the girl’s scent. The unmistakable musk of pussy, but faint, fresh. I rip some more, revealing her panties. I dig my face into the shadowy hole of her ripped pants, inhaling and rubbing around. I rip the material hard, satisfyingly tearing it wide open, halfway down both her thighs. Simple, pale green and white cotton panties. Cute little snowmen faces all over in a pattern. Full-coverage, not meant to be sexy. But my dick rages, fully hard now. I push both Grace’s and my face into it, rubbing us around on the soft material. Then I reach up and grab right in the center of the panties, right where Ella’s. As a small knoll bearing a naked lilac bush came into view, he pulled the car to the shoulder and parked.Jack grabbed the rose, got out of the car, and trudged over the knoll, leaving a trail of footprints behind. Feeling around in the snow with the toe of his boot, he struck a smooth, solid surface, and crouched down to brush the snow away with his gloved hand.He read the name: Margaret Rebecca McCullough 1959 — 2004, Beloved Wife and Mother. Jack removed a glove and laid his hand flat on the cold stone. Tears stung his eyes, and he brushed them away with impatient fingers."Maggie," he whispered.Jack thought of all the things he would say to her if she were there—the kids coming home and how sorry he was that he had neglected them, the wonderful late Christmas, how much he missed her—but he felt she knew all that. He felt that she had, in fact, been with them all along.Holding the red velvet bud against his lips, he kissed it and gently laid it across the stone."I love you, babe,".
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