He loved her. He wanted her. She assured him. She loved him. She wanted him. She wept.Through my leaves, the man looked toward his god for mercy. Warm...light sprinkled upon him. The woman bathed his forehead with water from a plastic jug. Removing the scarf was forbidden to her. Rivulets, pink like the petals of my spring, washed into the soil.A calm took him and his eyes were clear. He reached out and grasp the hem of the woman's robe. He tugged it free from her knees. He shuddered and coughed. That, and it felt good. Even now I can remember sitting on the edge of a differentbed, in a different town years ago with this same belt, arguing with myself. What person in their right mind would whip themselves on the mere say-soof another person? There must be something wrong with me, I thought, onlyto correct myself the next moment: maybe there's something right with me andthis is merely a test, a tool to discover that something. The debate withinme raged for what seemed like hours, the. ..” she sighs, her mouth falling open. He pulls her up to him and their lips meet; he kisses her roughly and intensely, biting her lip, and she doesn’t resist. I stare. He moves down and begins to suck on each of her small, pink nipples. “Your tits are fucking perfect, slut,” He says, as she runs her hands through his short, dark hair. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.He slides one hand between her legs and her bare, pink pussy flashes at me as he tucks his fingers into her underwear. She moans. In my mind’s eye, I imagined what the lovers would be doing. How they’d be spending their last planned night together. I imagined Francis slowly and sensuously unbuttoning Sue’s blouse, his face lighting up as he once again feasted on Sue’s large breasts. I imagined Sue savoring the moment as she unzipped Francis’ pants, going down on her knees to worship his over-sized cock once more.I was concentrating on creating these pictures in my mind when my concentration was interrupted.“Hey, Pete,”.
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