Dear Jesus, sweet Jesus. George, Harold… She begins to suspect the answer is beyond her reach. She sends out fingers of desire, need, thought- tries...to project them into her past, pull out something stable. The images seep through her fingers like fine sand peppered with doubt. Irving, Johnothan, Kenneth, Lyle… She has a deep envy of the living. She is tired of her half-existence. She is tired of being sad, tired of not even minding that someone her age should grieve. And in the thin bony box. Sheila easily secured his other arm above his head. She straddled him, a smirk on her features. Her hair was hanging down like a black silk curtain on one side of her face, tickling the sensitive skin on his neck. He bucked up to throw her off, but only succeeded in watching her close her eyes and moan. When he saw this, Josh knew the battle was over. His cock was betraying him and growing because of her willingness and actions. Her smile widened, and she tenderly bent down and kissed him.A. More

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