It sits hard and heavy in my stomach. I open up my desk drawer and pull out a little hand mirror I keep there. My furrow has deepened. Damn, I think. ...Do I love Ben Sheppard? I’ve thought this out but doubts hit me. No. I don’t. I toss myself into my work and when I am not at the office I toss myself onto the treadmill with music blaring loudly until I can’t take it anymore then I toss myself into bed for a night of fitful sleep. I keep driving the question out of my mind? Do I love Ben. “So soft and wet and warm.”And then Emma had her finger inside me: actually inside my vagina. I felt it circling around as if investigating every squishy moist inch of my internal walls. A second finger followed, tickling me gently, before curving up and pressing against my special soft spot.I arched my back involuntarily as she stroked me softly.“Mm, did you like that?” she whispered. “What about this?”She slid her other hand off my breast and down across my tummy until it reached my pubic. More

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