Soft, long-nailed fingers drifted lovingly over his chest and shoulders. Her soul poured out to him through her smoky green eyes as he took possession...of her. As she gyrated on his throbbing, thrusting shaft she whispered, “Yours.”“Mine, my little fucktoy,” he snarled. His words sent a shudder of pleasure through her flesh. Her inner walls clasped his shaft, milking it, pulling it deeper. Her juices eased his passage to the very base of her dripping core. His hands. The t.v. was on and we sat through several episodes of different shows. Mom was in her spot, kind of right up against the vee of the angle, working a crossword while watching. I was close enough, based on the other wing, with a book of Wyeth paintings open in my lap. Mandy was sprawled down by the end past me, flipping through magazines like a speed-reader.The late news came on, starting with raw footage of a bomb blowing up somewhere an ocean away. Mandy started whining about changing the. More

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