She cried for her broken family, for her fallen daughters, and for her affectionless marriage. She cried for her moments of depraved weakness, both th... lust that refused to relinquish its hold, as well the cowardice she showed in standing up for her children. She cried for the years of experience, wicked or not, she felt she missed living in the sheltered bubble that was her life. She cried for the confusion she now felt, torn apart by happiness for her daughters' found love and sadness for. ‘Oh, shit!’ he exclaimed. Her badly torn, blue dress, hung, flapping in the breeze, from one of the spikes. He looked down, as she gingerly picked herself up from the ground, rubbing her bottom, and brushed the dirt from her hands and knees. ‘At least she’s wearing a bra and panties,’ he thought, trying to look on the bright side. ‘Now look what you’ve done, you stupid bastard!’ she hissed, angrily. ‘Ssh! Don’t move! I always want to remember you this way!’ he replied, with a wide grin. ‘Get. More

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