Or die of thirst while they pissed on her coffin, her parched lips yearning for just one more taste. The smell filled her senses; her memories filled...her dreams. Which was memory? Which was dream?Chapter 2 She was on her back, the floor wet around her. Her hair stank of piss, her mouth was filled with cock. Her legs were pulled up with her ankles on either side of her head. Weight pressed her down. A cock...or something filled her cunt, then her ass. It was long; too long. It. I poured a scotch from the bar and sat down to think about the evening. A thought came to my mind and I reached for the phone and dialed her room. It rang about six times when she finally answered. “Hi, I forgot to say goodnight and ….” I never got to finish my sentence. “I am still in the shower. Let me call you back – what is your room number?” I told her and hung up. I turned on the TV and poured another scotch. I didn’t have to be in early so I figured this was one way to sleep – maybe. More

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