Donald told her the story of how he had been snatched and how he had watched as Brenda and Graham were gunned down. Rose offered up a heart-felt praye... for the woman who had looked after her son. She wished she could have met this Brenda. What kind of generous spirit must she have had to raise Donald while all the time keeping Rose's memory alive for the boy? How difficult must that have been?Rose saw that Donald seemed to have withdrawn within himself after re-telling the story of Brenda and. “Oh my God,” I said. “Oh my frickin’ God.” Dan laughed, and then I did, too. He leaned back, looking down at his still-unsatisfied cock, purple and straining with excitement. He looked at me and said, “You can just jack it if you want.” “You kidding?” I took him by the shoulders and rolled us over -- damn near dumping us on the floor in the process. Straddling his knees, I dived for his crotch. I had never done this before, of course, but I had a pretty fair idea of how it worked. I went. More

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