Her hair was redder than Joanna’s and her eyes more green than hazel. She had a slender figure, a little more curved than her daughter’s but still...more girlish than womanly. In the kitchen, she handed me a corkscrew and the wine, and I carefully pulled the cork. Two glasses stood on the counter and I poured wine into each. We carried our glasses over to the table where the casserole was steaming. I held Pauline’s seat as she sat down and she served us with meat in rich gravy and soft fluffy. As the delectable curves of her breasts, so prominent in the tight uniform, were swallowed by the oozing silt, the face screwed and pouted between terror and ecstasy as her arms flapped helplessly on greeting the bog which would soon swallow her.Trellis now wanted to masturbate as he watched her face contort into a perversely masochistic pleasure, the athletic female warrior conceding she’d more than met her match, the bubbling intoxicant having her enjoy the enveloping warmth of the decaying. More

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