She wrapped her legs around my waist as I thrusted harder and harder. She moaned and I moaned pleasurely.I was in heaven. "OO, Luke," she said, callin... out my name. "Yes," I said."Luke, Luke."I realised then that she was crying out my name because I was hitting all the right spots. I smiled smugly and thrusted harder making her cry out even harder. My breathing grew heavier, sweat dripped down the sides of my face as she commanded me to go even faster and harder until my body eventually gave in. “Look at these. Look what I made. In my body I bore them. With my hands I raised them. These are my girls.” A few times when I looked at the painting I heard her say something different. Sometimes Mum seemed to be glaring out into the room and saying, “Don’t mess with me. Don’t mess with my girls!” Did I mention sometimes Mum can be scary? We never posed for the painting of course, Mum painted it from out of her head. It’s a really good painting.I ran my fingers along the wooden frame, letting. Over the years, I'd gotten rather good at foreshadowing in my writings, and Jim was a proponent of the technique — when used correctly and sparingly.More than once, I saw him go back to reread something — that worried me a bit, but he dropped it and said, "Mr. Michael Knox — that was the best fucking piece of fiction that I've read in twenty years — you, and I are going to be both rich and famous." Jim, I wouldn't mind being rich, but fame is a bitch — you can have the fame," I replied."That's. I went in, it was dark but smelt cleen, there where three cubicles, i went in the middle one and shut the door behind me but not locking it, (after all i didnt want to stop them from getting me) i sat down, there was a gloryhole in each wall one was big enough to put your head through, i heard two car doors open and close, and thought about all the things i wanted to happen to me, the first man went into the cubicle on my left with the big hole and the second in the right, i looked through the.
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