What was I doing in bed still at that time? Well, being a writer, I write when inspiration hits. Which means if I dream something up at one am, I'm up...until it's out of me.But last night had not been about inspiration. No, it was frustration that had me up to all hours, writing and deleting, rewriting and deleting more. Finally, after staring at my computer and picturing what it would look like outside the front window, shattered glass all around it, the delicate wires and boards strewn on the. Sure enough, a blurry image filled my mind a moment later. A young blonde, barely legal and unable to fill out her halter top, sat on the edge of one bed. She stared with rapt attention at the scene unfolding on the other bed. Aunt Liz was handcuffed to the headboard, lying on her stomach, with something shoved in her mouth. Something silk, maybe, to judge by the sheen. A huge black man knelt between her legs, pushing a cock as thick as a beer can into her pussy. For a few brief moments, I. More

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