Running, heart pumping. Fast as she can. Legs burning, getting closer. Seeing, but unbelieving. How, when, why. How, when, why. Over an over, tears falling. Love blossomed, but love torn away. Reaching the other side, seeing, red water, a crowd. People stare, but scared to help. What is he, whispers, shaken voices. Hearing a familiar voice. Forcing open your eyes, trying to look. Unable to see, a splash. Some one in the water. Smiling to see, she has found you. She has come, terror, horror, tears streaming. Her face, pale. Coughing, more blood. Her hand trembles, reaching out. She reaches out, trembling, scared. How, when, why, still ringing. Pulling back. Mind about to break. She loved this, person. This person loved her, why does she tremble so. Why does she fear. Eyes closing again. Sounds fading, the end growing near, night is falling. Inching closer, she sees the wings, so clear. Feathers, black as night. Still trembling, still scared. Reaching out, grabbing the child. Pulling. Despite the difference involved, it was no less sensuous for me, but tired of the game, I lifted her back to her feet, planting her back in the position she had been mere moments before. This time, though, I left with her thighs demurely together rather than displaying what she had available for my pleasure.I slipped one hand inside the folded-back silk blouse, gently squeezing at the breast contained by the marvellous technology of the push-up bra. Liira gasped, and I took it as a signal to stimulate my mother's other erogenous zone, rubbing my other hand against the sleek satin that hid her groin. The dampness that had originally demarcated the cleft at her groin had spread, soaking up around much of her pubic region and discolouring the red of the fabric. I raised that hand to my nose, scenting my mother's sexual secretions before I held the same hand out to Liira. She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust, and tried to turn away; I clapped it over her mouth. With seeming reluctance,.
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