Slowly my hand captures the hills south of your back. Your trembling hands taking away pressure by ripping pants. Slowly I feel a small trembling hand...on my thigh. Gripping my wet slippery skin, searching something to hold on to. Nails sink in my skin. Soft nipples between my lips raise themselves like proud mountains. My hand tears down the hiding place of your beautiful secret, softly I touch the softest skin there is and feel your legs become tense. Loosening the grip on your neck, but to. It was a part of her. If only her mother had seen that, seen that Sarah couldn't live without being free. If only she'd seen before Sarah had...He sighed. Christmas was not the time to be thinking of such things. He stood stiffly, took his umbrella and walked out into the parking lot, following the sidewalk around the contour of the building until he found the loading dock for one of the department stores. He heard the telltale sounds of his wife - Sarah's mother, the woman who'd tried to lock. More

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