You better go home and cry yourself to sleep, little girl, it's almost the witching hour."Cordelia swept away, but before she reached whichever werewo...f she wanted, Harley barreled into her. They both went sprawling to the ground. Harley's cock landed in the deep valley of Cordelia's bare cleavage. Instead of screaming, Cordelia held Harley tight, forcing him to wriggle his member against her mammaries. The nearby frat boys began cheering. Johanna could not stand to watch any more. She ran. He’d done her in oil, a classic pose. Those were good times, when they biked and enjoyed lazy afternoons at the ballpark watching their mediocre double A team. They’d met at a jazz concert and shared a heat that refused to fade. Outside, storm clouds gathered. She stared at the painting and a single tear escaped. He was coming home after seven months over there, but not with the warmth of life. Wine I strolled through the wine side. Soft classical music drifted from overhead speakers. Walking. More

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