The trickle becomes a flood, and before I know it, I’m reeling forward in the throes of sorrow, and spilling eighteen years of regret onto the floor. Bokepindo My feline-like crawl stops when I reach her feet. I draw their faces deeper to my breasts, and feel their noses push into the dark skin of my areolas. I glance up and see that she is no longer shrieking in pain and fear, but crying pathetic moans and looking down at me with half-mast, lustful eyes. “You got it,” Eleanor smiles, and gestures to the pack in my hands, “can I bum a smoke?”
I hand her a cigarette, light it between her red lips, and then sit down at the foot of the bed. She took this a lot better than
