His eyes tell me stories of what he’d like to do with what he sees, and what he doesn’t see. I wish I could live some of those stories. But life i... complicated. We both know it, but the fantasies are what keep me wearing a path in the carpeted stair-well. I want him to tell me those stories with his body, not just his eyes. I am married, and I think he is spoken for as well… sometimes, at least. But then sometimes he doesn’t seem so taken, and I wonder if he would actually take me, given a. The sound of the bedroom door opening had awakened her, or so it seemed. But she could hardly move, her body felt so heavy, so tired. She watched as Mercy entered the room. The curvy, dark haired, older teen, started stripping her clothes off, then she looked towards the dark corner of the room. Sitting in a chair was that same evil c***d that had been in Rachel’s dream. But she looked so sweet and innocent, a white lace nightdress and long golden hair. Could this still be part of the dream? . More

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