Still smiling, she picked up a hand mirror from the table (had it always been there?), handed it to me, and I looked in wonder at my back. The scars w...re still there, but something had happened to them. What was it? I couldn't seem to figure out exactly what the difference was. They just seemed... they seemed... to belong to me, to be a part of me. My back was pretty (it was!), and the scars were part of my back, and so they were pretty, too. Does that make sense? Of course not, but that's what. She was about to ignore it as an innocent accident when it happened again.The sensation of the cold feet against her warm skin was rousing. The feet were now lingering at her ankle, the cold toes stroking her gently. With each stroke, she started feeling funny. The funny feeling was nothing but her gradually getting wet again. As it is, she was already wet from her previous session of fun.She tried looking up at Rahul, but he seemed to have no expression. He seemed so composed, almost as if. More

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