I long for the skeleton of my boat. For the second time I weep. I sniff the air, searching for the smell of salt that has become all too familiar. I ...earch for my scars but cannot find them. The forest has healed my body. My mind is not shattered yet. I will return to the shore and beg the gulls to accept me. I will fly above the ocean until the sun and salt and sea consumes me like Icharus reborn. I will the feathers to sprout from my fingertips. The voice grows distant, receding on the wind.. The fellow she had John suck off with her as the last ditch effort to retain her sanity from the yard o’ beef they’d encountered in this gloryhole. The card read, ANSON BLAINE, CONSULTANT. That was all. She lay in bed that night, remembering his huge black cock…tasting it…fucking it…nursing on the end as it filled her mouth….watching the come spurt out. She got wet again remembering John’s mouth on the end, and taking the come into his open mouth. This dick is going in me again, one way or. More

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