My dirty little girl.” Your weight atop me already is bringing about a desperate struggle for breath, your deep baritone voice ...ausing my knees to tremble, the tickle of your 5’o-clock shadow sending chills down my spine. I dig the heel of my boots into your hips and try to force you off me, a feeble attempt to gain some dominance- but painful nonetheless. You growl angrily and bite into delicate area between my neck and shoulder; Not a sweet, “kinky” bite- not a bite. I used to love your stories.’ He laughed. ‘Did I? I didn’t know. What an insufferable son of a bitch I was, huh?’ ‘So you don’t do that anymore?’ ‘I guess not. Who would I tell? You were the only one who would ever put up with me.’ She stood up a little straighter. She saw herself smile in the dark window. ‘I used to love your stories. You taught me so much.’ He started to say something then stopped. ‘It would have been better if I’d talked less and listened more.’ ‘Can you tell me one now?’. More

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