They are lives. You can read a fortune upon them and, if you follow the curves, distinguish individual pain. Fingerprints burn and cry and bleed longe..., 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. He couldn't resist and slurped the nipple into his mouth and gave it a good hard suck. A squeal echoed from above and the nipple was taken away from him."Get up, you naughty boy. I have breakfast ready in the kitchen. You're not going to get anything out of that." She laughed as she wiggled her ass out of the room.He got up and went through his routine, ending up in the kitchen eating a huge pile of pancakes she'd kept warm in the oven, along with a side of sausage links. While he was eating,. More

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