But her passion too greatAnd she did not care.Her lover it was Approaching the door.Unaware of his presenceShe slid to the floor.In front of the mirro...She continued to play.As he watched in delightBut not a sound did he say.Hard as a rock,And wanting more.He removed his clothesAnd slid past the door.Her passion was buildingShe wanted to gush,But she new I’d be betterIf she did not rush.So she closed her eyesAnd tipped her head back.The sight of this caused,A swell in his sack.He reached from. This happened repeatedly over the first couple of weeks they were there, and did not seem to be improving with time.During that summer, not long before school was to start, I was laying in bed, waking up and preparing to get up, when Sheila came into my part of the second floor. She sat on the side of my bed and began talking with me about how her husband, my older brother, was treating her and making her feel like she had the "PLAGUE" or something similar. She stated he would not touch her. More

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