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When I was a little girl, my grandmother used to hide Easter Eggs for me. Sometimes they were the eggs she and I had colored the night before and sometimes, when I was very lucky, they would be candy eggs. I liked those best. That's why, now that I am a grandmother myself, I miss having the kids live close by. I don't have anybody to hide eggs for, and nobody hides them for me anymore.

I woke up slowly on Easter morning. When I finally got my eyes open, I saw David leaning on his elbow, watching me. "You are so sexy when you sleep," he said, kissing me on the forehead and brushing my blond hair out of my eyes. David is the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me. Before I met him I always thought of myself as the tall, skinny girl I had been in high school, the one who had to go to the prom with her cousin, because I didn't have a real date.

Although my figure filled out after having babies, my sex life with my first husband was satisfying, but pretty vanilla. We loved one another very much and had intercourse regularly. It was great, but nothing that anyone could turn into an erotic story. After he died I met David. Sex with David was an ongoing adventure - one I never want to end. We didn't just have intercourse - he fucked my brains out. His cock may be average in size and he may not be better endowed than some other men, but he knows how to use what he's got. Multiple orgasms were the rule, not the exception, when David fucked me. Hell, sometimes for both of us. ...

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