At least, it looked like one. Men and women in uniform, all slaughtered, shell casing scattered about the ground. The bodies had been there for awhile... based on the dust and dirt that had accumulated, but were oddly preserved. She took a breath and, against her better judgment, went inside. There were more bodies. She kept going, pushing open a door. There was a stairwell. She followed it. And as she kept going, she saw a large, bright ball of light, big enough for someone to walk into. It was. We had a lot to talk about but I was content to save that for another day. My thoughts turned to all the experiences I'd had ever since that fateful night at Lisa's and Tracy's party. I'd had so many different kinds of sex. I'd been used as a sex toy by teenage boys and girls. I'd approached strangers and given blow jobs and been fucked by a disgusting man in the back of a liquor store and then been disappointed at the size of his cock.I'd had loving sex with my husband and brutal sex at the. However, one of them came into my bedroom in the middle of the night wearing only her plain cotton nightie and sobbed relentlessly over the break-up of she and her usually attentive boyfriend "Cracker" who was reputed to have a huge shaft that young girls tended to shy away from because they knew they were too tight or two small to offer it residence.It amazed me that this next to youngest sister was the constant companion to a lad like Cracker with his rowdy way of behavior and his reputation. “I didn’t think anything of it at first. But if it affected us both, it seems likely.”“If you did nothing else to trigger it, I suspect it happened the moment you first met,” Meritia said.“So you don’t think the itching is a coincidence?”“No.”“We didn’t really meet that first night, though,” Katrin put in. “We never spoke.”Meritia waved her hand. “That’s of no consequence. Meet, or come in close contact, or see each other. Whatever the trigger, it would have required the two of you to be.