Christine Palmer lay on her back on the bench with her feet on the ground. Her blue eyes were open in a glassy death stare. There was a large red stai... on her thick sweater between her breasts where my bullet had pierced her heart. I had done it so might as well check her out. My hands lifted the bloody sweater up above her lacy white bra that was also bloody near the wound. I took my hunting knife and cut the bra and removed the cups from her delicious looking breasts. Her ample bosoms sagged. I wanted it to be sensual. Instead, it was the same standard letter. I erased what I'd written and leaned back against the pillows. The lace of my camisole lay attractively across my thighs and I ran my finger along it."What would he do if he really were here right now?" I wondered, brushing my fingertips across my breasts. My nipples responded, immediately stiffening. After a few deep breaths, I began the letter again.My Darling,I can't seem to fall asleep. You are clouding my thoughts, making. More

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