A middle aged black man wearing a white coat entered the room and examined Jerry with the typical distant manner common to doctors.He asked, “Have y...u got your voice back yet?”The question gave Jerry pause, as he hadn’t tried to say anything. Opening his mouth, he croaked, “Where am I?”“You’re in a hospital,” replied the doctor. Turning to the nurse, he requested additional antibiotics.The answer prodded his brain into working harder. It only made sense that he would be in a hospital after. “Blood and chocolate and iron,” I repeat as I walk by.Her toes curl and there it is. She’s pulling the coffee skinned teenager in, squeezing her legs around her head. A different kind of biblical name forms on her lips.-My little hellion is a mess. Her red-gold locks are soaked and sweat pools on the coppered skin of her back. She’s riding Mr. Armani like a prized stallion, drum tight ass flexing and contracting, muscles rippling slowly. Damn near award winning if a competition were held.I. More

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