Fill me. Let me feel you fill me,” she sang.“Are you writing beat poetry?” I laughed. We moved together, enjoying sliding in and out as we kisse... and fondled.“I have an inspiration in me. I love you, Jacob.”“Yes,” I hissed. “I will always love you.” We were too focused on each other and making love to continue our conversation. Sometimes, making love to Donna was a long conversation simply punctuated with orgasms. This night, we were focused on each other’s pleasure and conversation came in. “How did he die?” He asked, his voice suddenly calm.“I killed him. I’m sorry. I saw him murder my brother, and in a rage I took his life.”He nodded slowly. “Your brother ... was he-” he cleared his throat. “Was he that thing you were carrying?”“Yes. That ‘thing’ was my brother.” I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. “I loved him dearly. He was like me, he could stand before you looking just like a man.”The young man nodded again. “I see.”“You don’t seem very upset to learn that. More

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