Of course the plastic was wet, since it seemed the delivery kid always missed the mark and tossed it directly in the damp lawn covered in morning dew....Yuck she thought, picking it up gingerly, removing the clear plastic and balling it up in her hand, before entering the house so the water wouldn’t drip and leave a knowing trail on the hardwood floors. Laying the paper out on the kitchen table, padding over to the counter, she opened the coffee maker and dumped yesterday’s coffee grounds and the. I am wet.’ A slight disturbance, more rustling fabric. ‘My nipples are hard too. My finger is rolling one as your lips rolled it this morning. My left nipple, with that little mole you like to kiss. Can you taste me? Oh, it feels so good. Not as good as you made me feel, but so good. And you look delicious there, open to me. Two fingers inside me now. Can you hear? There is a mark on your thigh. I put it there, didn’t I? Two days ago, with the cane you love and hate so much. It is here beside. More

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