Her finger rubbed harder now. Harder, faster, working against her body, sending sensations flooding over her. She felt herself grow wetter and revelle... in the feelings, inhaling deeply, catching the scent of sex, of herself, beginning to pervade the room, mingling with the vanilla. She opened her eyes and stared out of the window drinking in the scene of snow and moonlight before her. She was caught between the cold of the glass and the hard muscled warmth of his body, his lips on her neck, his. "Don't worry, squirt," I'd laugh, "He's with Christine."As always, we were the last ones to know and as always, it hurt more when we did eventually find out the truth. For some reason, me and Donna seemed to blame each other, but then common sense prevailed and this little break was our attempt to reconcile our differences."You know I care, you asshole." she laughed, and then suddenly went quiet."What?" I asked, "What's wrong?"She shook her head and turned away from me."What, squirt?" Nothing,. More

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