She set her chair in the precise center of the vacant property and arranged an old quilt on her lap, muttering to herself in a language no one else in...the world spoke anymore. Her thick fingers retrieved something rolled up in the hem of her skirts: a seed. It was an unwholesome color, blackish-purple, and it smelled like a bad wound. Perhaps it even squirmed a little in her grasp, like a grub. Perhaps.She held the seed, she said the words, she kissed it with her withered lips and then, telling. Soon we talked about masturbation and how her buddy would bring relief at least. She told me about her sex dreams and that the guy in her dream was&hellip,.me. &hellip,.. She was having sex dreams about me? &hellip,..She started asking a lot of questions about my personal sex life. &hellip,..I think I told her to much. &hellip,..When I described fucking my girlfriend, she would start getting excited. It wasnt long and I could tell she was coming on to me. I think I made the mistake of. More

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