No trace of the day’s trials and tribulations remain, only on the cotton wool in the waste paper basket. After a time she stirs in the silence of a ...pell. Then she breathes, but the cool, cotton sheets have given way to gardens, where roses breathe poems. She idly reflects over the sweet, sonnets of scent, as above her, the leaves swirl like green hearts in the gentle summer breeze. The sun’s caresses inflame her bare skin, but the cruel breeze sighs: “Is it enough?” As her eyes drop to the. I was his to use, his fuck toy, for as long we both lived. Nothing mattered up to the point he admitted that I turned him on in the worst way. Our parents would have been ashamed and our family disowned us, but none of that stopped my big brother from showing me that there were no limits to his love and adoration. I heard the door creak ever so slightly. A blond haired head peeked through the gap, between the door frame and the latch. Brittany was peeking through and rubbing herself furiously.. More

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