She had always preferred old-fashioned razors to the new sticks – said they had a certain charm. To choose this method of dying, would mean being cl...se to her even as life seeped out of her. She carefully took one blade out and walked back to the window, to the light. She stared out into the night, wondering if what she was about to do was correct. It was definitely better than the nothingness that her life had become. It was better than the loneliness, the tears and the longing for what could. He moans softlyas his penis swells expectantly, hugs her closer to him, sliding his hand down the smooth cool length of her hip, stroking possessivelyrunning his rough worn hand down the side of her firm young calf, marveling at the feminine combination of strength and delicateness; she reaches her other hand into the space between his back and the couch, and he moans softly -- she giggles wickedly and slips her hand lower, down into the back of his sweatpants, tickling his buttocks, wiggling a. More

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