The time was closer. He raised the violin, tucked it under his chin and joined the orchestra. With an ease that came from hours of practice, each note...came—perfect in time, perfect in tone and empty of life. Faint at first, the scent that he had smelled earlier drifted around him. Trying to drive the memories away from him, he played with an intensity not heard before the accident. “Allan!” He heard the soft whisper and looked. Rosa stood before him, smiling. “Allan!” He could feel the cool. Another emotion also comes to mind when I think about what's happening in the room next to mine, anger. Anger at my sister for not sharing and jealousy that she got all of daddy's attention. I hated them for not including me...So why was I rubbing my pussy so hard, and why was my tight little hole so wet? I masturbate every time I hear her moan his name, every time I hear the slapping of their hips as daddy bottoms out inside her. And I cum harder and harder every time.No! This isn't fair! I. More

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