”She did not wait for his answer, or any encouragement. She could not, too mired in the need to touch him, to reach for him and feel the life of his...skin not the sallow tint of death her mind had suggested to her again and again over the days of their captivity. Her hands smoothed across the planes of his chest, the warmth reassuring under her touch, the goosebumps following her touch a calming sign of life, or reality, of his safety. He caught her wrists in his hands, not lifting them from his. .. she's good," Terry managed to whisper.There was something about talking this way to his mother that drove himwild. It was so dirty, so taboo. And she seemed to be taking some wickedpleasure in making him squirm. There was nothing he could do now but sitthere and let her tease him mercilessly. He got the impression that shewas after something. But what? What could his mother possibly want ofhim?"She's just good?" Sheila breathed."She's great..." Terry admitted."Does she ... does she suck your. More

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