After getting beers at the bar they flopped down on one of the couches. ‘Have you been writing long?’ ‘Only about a year. It’s a kind of ther...py for me since my dad passed away. Instead of sitting on a shrink’s couch and paying them to listen to me spill my guts .I write my poems .It is a lot cheaper way of dealing with my emotions.’ ‘ Your poetry is so well written I thought you were going to say it was your profession and you had been doing it for years. ‘ Julie was amazed how in just one. Despite the doctors' best efforts, they couldn't save her.I was too young to understand any of that - I was simply shattered. Dad did his best, but he was completely devastated too, of course. In reality what kept me going was Emma. A first-grader, 2 months shy of seven - and she was my rock, my comfort, my sweet companion. It was with Emma I could cry, with Emma I could be angry and upset, with Emma I could be allowed to be gloomy and distant. The first couple of months of 5th grade were a. His fierce lioness now purred for him, holding desperately onto his shoulders as her body came apart around him. His satisfaction was undeniable, he knew it could be done without beating or chaining her. She just needed him. He held her tight, moaning roughly into her neck, as he came deep in her pussy. She held onto him just as tight, mewling softly in response. He held her for a moment before nudging her cheek with his."Will you be good?" he asked softly. She sighed in his arms, her shoulders. “Nor me.” Jacko reached over for the phone, picked it up and held it to his ear. A moment later he slammed it down and hurried into the bedroom, returning quickly with the secure radio handset.Turning it on, he set the channel number to 1, then pressed the PTT button. “Green sixty.”There was no answer. He quickly checked the channel, volume, and battery lights, then waited another thirty seconds. “Green sixty,” he called again. Silence.“I think we’d probably better make a move,” said Mel,.