Wrapping her in my arms, such a frail girl, I assured her I wouldn’t. “You’re stuck with me, honey.” Eventually Amelia cried, some of the pois...nous sorrow oozing out of her.Still, recovery wasn’t fast. I noticed it in her music. Amelia began to play mournful songs on the piano. She sang less and the songs were of loss and sorrow, sung with such sadness and agony I had a lump in my throat. Her remarkable voice expressed such haunting it made me go cold. And even the beauty, the perfect clarity. “All the better to drink the juices from your swollen pussy, young Minx,” I called back, moving closer to her. By now I was standing above her heaving breasts, my hand having slipped inside her top and gently squeezing her, sliding my fingers around her hardened nipple. Gasping, she spoke, “And my oh my, Mr Wolf, what a huge cock you must have inside your tight pants!” and tore open the button on my buckle, extracting me and running her hand up and down my swollen shaft. “All the better to fuck. More

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