A bone in her captured hand snapped. She stopped in the middle of the pool. He dragged her by one arm to the bed and tossed her down on it. She was a girl of saturnine beauty, sharp-nosed, with delicate bones that he dreamt of breaking. And she somehow felt empty and forsaken. One night, she said, bowing her head. From the day I reached puberty, I've always loved cotton dresses. The cloth floated off forgotten, and her hand traced tantalizing trails below my navel getting ever closer until it played in soft curls. This seemed to excite her, and with wide eyes, she lowered her wet young lips and sucked the head of his cock into her mouth. My arms circled her hips and I eased her forward until the wild foliage of her pussy hovered just above my lips. |