He didn’t suffer.’ I rolled my head to the side and stared at the wall, unable to speak. I wanted to die too. I wanted to be with Jonathan. Tears ...lowed down my cheek, while Mom continued to hold my hand and cry with me. —————– Slowly but surely I grew stronger each day, but my heart felt broken. I didn’t get to attend Jonathans funeral, so it still didn’t seem real to me. After extensive physical therapy on my left arm, that was shattered and pinned, I began to resume some function. Six months. "I would say you are the culprit," withdrawing my hand which has two very moist fingers. "You're soaking." Bringing them to my nose, I inhale her musky scent looking in her eyes, I put my index finger in my mouth to savor the taste till it's clean. "Mmmmm you taste so good. Here have the other," giving her my middle to enjoy. Keeping her eyes locked on mine she holds my hand with both of hers and takes my finger in her mouth. Gail licks and sucks it clean, then bobs her head on it simulating. More

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