Sorry, love. It’s over.Four words. She stared at them again. She did not cry. For she was not sad as such. Nor even angry. Just in pain, bereft, des...airing.She lay back on her bed trembling, fists clenched against breasts. And in her abandonment, she pondered. She knew how she had got here. But, though she did not know how to escape, she knew what she wanted. She had wanted to, yearned to, for ages. And now, more than ever, she needed it – and now she was free.She thought again. Now, or another. Hooking her thumbs into her panties, she bent down and slipped them off. She turned slightly toward the window; her shaved pussy was highlighted by the untanned triangle of a bikini bottom. She reached for the front clasp of her bra, unsnapped the clasp and pulled the bra off. She dropped it on the bed. No tan lines here. She reached up to her breasts and rubbed them roughly like she was trying to get blood in them. She pinched her nipples and pulled them up and wiggled them. She reached down. More

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