.. it was entirely likely she hadn’t. She whispered. “It’s beautiful...” she breathed. Then I kissed her, deeply, my tongue thrusting into her...mouth. She mewled into the kiss, her palms pressing slowly to my chest, tracing the sword-scars and the puckered arrow wounds that showed Berrywright’s martial prowess. Her finger was tracing the circular hole that had come perilously close to piercing my heart when my own hands slid to her shoulders, to her hips, and then to the bed to either side of. Would that be enough for me?I was at my mothers place in early February and decided to talk to her about this."Mom I want to talk to you about some things." Sure, I have a lot of time we could talk, want me to put up some coffee?" Yes, thanks milk two sugars."So I sat there on the sofa wondering how this was going to work out. I saw her half-glasses on the coffee table but did not take and clean them.Mom came back into the living room with coffee and a few doughnuts, I could not believe it."So. More

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