200 pounds of weight fell over me, and I froze. Before I could even utter an “Ouch,” he closed my mouth with his lips and squished my melons with ...is big hands. I couldn’t even cry out in pain. He closed on my lips really hard and roughly bit them. His hands, too, were very rough on my boobs.It seemed that tears will come out of my eyes, but I managed somehow. The suffering only existed for some seconds as pleasure took over. I enjoyed the pain. His rough beard on my tender skin felt very good.. I will not touch him, though.His singsong is a foreigner's. He's talking about the far place fromwhich he's come, about being a stranger here. We sit, knee nearlytouching knee and in the rise and fall of every word, in the way his darkeyes seek mine out, the way I know his hand yearns to reach for mine, Iknow he wants to say we are the same. That we could share our sameness.The warmth of eyes in his round face, the soft curve of his jaws, likethe song of words that he chants, that he is. More

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