Addictive Rimeshade
“It suits him.
Muscled shoulders ripple when he lifts the photo of me and Deliah from the mantlepiece, and he flexes to give me a penetrating stare, “Who is this?”
“That's me and my sister.”
I think I'm broken. My tendons are still trembling and I can't summon the energy to move. I always wanted to sample Olympic level endurance sex, and I'd do it again in a quantum second.
“You look nothing alike,” he says, scowling at the photo in a cheap plastic frame. “She's got dark hair and... eyes, and is at least a foot taller than you.” He glances at the other pictures on my mini shrine of memories.
Looking back at the one in his hand, as if he can't help himself he caresses my smiling rebellion with his thumb-pad, scrutinizing the moment when two teenage girls ran away from the ninth level of suffering. We went to one of those photo booths. Deliah kept two photos, and I kept two.MoreLess
Muscled shoulders ripple when he lifts the photo of me and Deliah from the mantlepiece, and he flexes to give me a penetrating stare, “Who is this?”
“That's me and my sister.”
I think I'm broken. My tendons are still trembling and I can't summon the energy to move. I always wanted to sample Olympic level endurance sex, and I'd do it again in a quantum second.
“You look nothing alike,” he says, scowling at the photo in a cheap plastic frame. “She's got dark hair and... eyes, and is at least a foot taller than you.” He glances at the other pictures on my mini shrine of memories.
Looking back at the one in his hand, as if he can't help himself he caresses my smiling rebellion with his thumb-pad, scrutinizing the moment when two teenage girls ran away from the ninth level of suffering. We went to one of those photo booths. Deliah kept two photos, and I kept two.MoreLess
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