..” Crystals of tears continued to roll down my cheeks. Using his other hand, he took his rifle and tossed it onto my bed. Instantaneously, using th... same hand, he grabbed my wrist tightly together and held it behind my back. He took a step forwards and squeezed his body against mine. His nose ran down my neck and sucked profusely while he used his tongue to lick my neck. He then bit my neck lightly. It felt like a wild dog tasting its prey. With his whole body around me, he pushed me against. Hell, so were mine. How pretentious could artists be? There isn’t a mark on the scale for that. I was seriously considering starting to wear Hawaiian shirts and board shorts just to express my individuality. They’d drum me out of the Artist Corps.Sandra was a little on the round side. Zaftig would be a good word, and no, Margaret Cho, that isn’t German for ‘fat pig.’ Her hair was kind of strawberry blonde and she had the complementary green eyes to go with it. Sometimes you didn’t notice them. More

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