I think about my mother often. Father also told me I look just like her, except I have his eyes. I know I have his eyes; they are the same bright, icy...blue every day. I imagine my mother was beautiful, because in all reality, I know I am too. I’m not being vain, it is simply the truth. Father loved her more than life itself, and if it wasn’t for me, I don’t know what would have happened. Even though I have been with my father all of these years, I still long for a more intimate relationship, I. She exposed her large breast and just looked at me as though to say, 'My turn'. My lips started from her's as I kissed her in thanks, I slowly worked my way down to her neck. Kissing and nibbling on her ear, letting my warm breath sweep across her body like a fog. I wanted her to feel everything. So my hands moved from her shoulders to her breasts, carressing each nipple and massaging them as my kisses played catch up. I went down her neck, kissing gently on where i could and however I could. I. More

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