I feared she would never wake up.The tent reeked of sweat and sickness after two days, a foul miasma that turned my stomach. Reina bathed Queenie's te...ple, my sister's face filled with despair. I felt that same yawning darkness inside me. My beautiful wife was never waking up.It wasn't fair. It was just a stupid scratch. I've cut myself worse and been fine.The tent was so small, the canvas pressing in on me. Sarah crawled in, holding a fresh bowl of river water. She rubbed it on Queenie's. Her boobs were small, but perfectly round. As she reached behind and undid her bra, they didn’t move at all – supple. John swallowed. She would bend down, pull her shorts of her smooth legs, let them drop. He imagined her there, bare but for her panties, imagined her catching sight of herself in the mirror, and spinning, to admire herself. Her bare shoulders giving way to her orbs, perfect boobs, with pert nipples. Her flat stomach, and her bubble, firm ass. She would tuck her fingers into the. More

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