She stared into my eyes and I could not have looked away had I wanted to. Slowly she lowered herself until I felt the warmth of her sex just brushing...the hairs on my thigh. She smiled at me. Then slowly she slid her pussy up and down my thigh a couple of times. “See, you aren’t the only one that is all excited this evening!” She said.“Megan, this is wrong. We can’t….” I started to protest weekly. She stood up straight, slapped me across the face and fired darts at me with her glare!“You. .. Beneath were these words:When I saw about Living On Land and poems and read your stuff I thought you would understand so I sent you this, only it's not fiction it's real so don't publish my name or email PLEASE!Intrigued, and wishing to publish the poem – it fitted our name perfectly – I wrote back saying: Of course I won't, but can you give me a name of some kind, a nom-de-plume, something to identify you?He wrote: Alright, use Wendy. When we were little, my sister insisted on being called. More

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