They both came hard, shuddering and bucking, screaming in pleasure. Afterwards they lay for a few seconds in each other's arms, enjoying the sensation...of their naked bodies rubbing against one another. Buffy reached up and wiped her brow."We still sweat," she observed.Drusilla nodded "It's just a leftover, like our lungs."Buffy put her hand to her chest. "But our hearts don't beat."Drusilla shook her head "After a while you don't miss it."She decided to make Buffy forget all about her missing. Yeah. Anyway, that was the beginning of my dislike of Christmas, but it was by no means the last time my life became shit on that putrid holiday. Take my tenth year for example. That was the wonderful year when the fact that my father was an asshole, on levels that none of us really knew of, began to come to light. It was Christmas afternoon. A cold fog, which was determined not to ever go away, had been hanging around the base of the apartment building. That fog hid the police cars when they. More

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