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They laid her on the couch and after making sure I would take care of her they left. They had gone to a country/western bar this time and her outfit showed it. She was wearing a red plaid short -sleeve button-down shirt that had snaps instead of buttons, denim miniskirt and cowboy boots. I managed to pull her boots and ankle socks off, getting a perfect view of her black panties while I was doing it. She fought me a little in her drunken state but I got them off and went to get a blanket. When I got back she was laying with her legs spread and I could see the pubes that were coming out around the leg bands of her panties. I reached down and gently rubbed her pussy through the crotch of her panties. She didn’t move and I tried the wake up tricks and got no response. I got on my knees and bent down and as gently as I could, pulled the crotch of her panties to the side and just as gently licked her pussy. “Jean” moved a little but did nothing else. I probed her pussy with my tongue,. He can’t be dead, if he was, only I would see him. I turn away from him. “No, that’s not it. It’s just.” My voice trails off again. I can’t tell him why what he said is true. He’d think I was a freak. “It’s just what?” I didn’t hear him move up behind me, but he’s there. I can feel his breath on my neck. He takes my hand, slowly, so I have time to pull away if I want. I don’t. He leads me through the crowd of dancing people and to a staircase. He leads me up the staircase and down several hallways, twists, and turns. We go into a pretty-much hidden room. “What are you doing?” I finally ask him a question I should’ve asked a long time ago. He closes the door and then stands in front of me. I can see his chest rising and falling as he breathes in slowly, relaxed. That’s when I realize, when he touched my hand, I didn't’t see anything. I didn’t see his past, or what he was thinking. Normally I avoid physical contact, I see too much about the person. I always see something. Isaiah is.
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