Even then, he had found a new way to take her, he had kissed the tears, drank them from her cheeks. He had taken even her tears for his own.His cum wa... in her hair, in her pussy, in her ass, on her skin. She could smell only their sex, his cum and hers mixed. They filled the air. She shook as another after shock went through her, cum drizzled out of her down her legs again. The floor under her was puddled with their sex.She felt his hands on her hips and she fought the urge to push into his. So: one is shouting into the dead air of a dead connection, the othercries: What is it? What's wrong?Something's always wrong, at three in morning.Confused, clumsy, our regiment of two scrambles in all directions nowthat the alarm sounds. He fears something, something he's feared for awhile, knows something's wrong though he has no reason to know, knowswhere he needs to go. His fear -- or maybe what he knows, or maybe onlythat he knows he has to go -- makes me afraid in turn. Of what,exactly, I. More

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