~Lianna Black~Six years later…Footprints on the sand, two pairs almost three sizes smaller than the other, made a clear path for me to follow. Laughter mingled with the lapping waters in the beach. The salty and cold touch of the ocean on my bare feet sent a tingly sensation straight to my contented heart.The sight of my husband not holding his Glock 19 is still the sweetest sight of him, apart from the look of him pleasuring my body, that is. He was holding a pink shovel and a blue pail, his bare legs shown by his surfboard shorts and his bare chest adorned by dust of white sands.He sat himself down on the sand, not a care in the world, his powerful legs spread languidly in front of him. His long inky hair that cascades down his shoulders, each locks long eno