Who was my creator? Was I always what I am. Will I die and eventually go back to where I was before I was born? For now, I am sensing your body. Your ...anned arms and shoulders. The peaceful face, gorgeous in its sculpture. The sheet tucked over your thighs and along your belly. Though, I have no awareness of feeling touch, the tactile stimulation, that you can understand---yet, I feel your warmth. The capillary pulsations and reverberations of your flesh increasing as I lie with you.Your hands. As they arrived at the clearing, I knew they were there and fired the flare gun into the large trench we had dug.The dry kindling and wood that had been soaked in diesel fuel ignited and Amber turned on the 500 watt sound system with the massive speakers from the house, while Maria turned on the bright spotlights that were typically used for performances on the basement stage.The first invaders were now greeted with a trench of fire with the fetid smell of burning diesel. They quickly became. Joan slept with him for a month, just before highschool graduation. Beth had him as a college sophomore. He was their standard, their basis for comparison. He was the benchmark, against which everyone else was measured up. Or down.The girls had their sixty percent of the front seat reclined, They were under a blanket, face to face, giggling and gossipping. I didn't pay much attention, until I heard his name."Did you notice how fat Brian and Sarah are getting?" Can you imagine sex, lying under. I told her that I am going to fuck her.She was far from saying no but didn’t replied which I considered as yes. She was still playing with my tool and giving me mild handjobs. I told her to sit on western comod. It was not clean but we are in no mood to give importance to cleanliness that time. I spread her legs and inserted my finger in her pink pussy. It was not shaved but black hairs in a white body, oh, quite beautiful. I started fingering her, she was moaning and enjoying.Done fingering.