“But, there’s a consolation prize.” Barb, still astride Randy and his rocket, motioned Paul forward. She took the matter firmly in hand and gave...him a moment to remember. His sperm doused her tits. Barb scooped some up on her fingers and brought them to her mouth. “Next time I’ll share.” “You want me to eat my own cum?” Paul was incredulous. “I’m not gay.” “Nobody said you were,” replied Barb. “But Randy’s gonna learn to eat his own cum if he wants to keep getting laid. Girls think it’s hot.”. Fingerprints burn and cry and bleed longer, harder than eyes ever could. I wash them daily, my scars and fingerprints. Caress them. Sometimes I see him. Just long enough that he can thrust himself back into my life. Long enough for the wound to be torn farther to add bacteria to the contaminated flesh. I sit in the shower for hours crying the water that consumes me, wrinkles my fingerprints, and pinks my skin beyond the soft white naivety that it normally blushes. Cleaning doesn’t help. Much.. More

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