The nerves which are at my fingertip used to be on the circumference of my finger. When I would touch something with the tip of my finger I would get ...he feeling that my finger was inside the object. Which is cool and all but weird. My brain is also adjusting for the shorter distance involved. It’s true your brain keeps track of how long your fingers are. It finds it disturbing when it knows that the tip of your finger should be touching something but is not.In other news, Scrivener my writing. She didn't care about anything except for satisfying that lucious slit between her legs. She was always horny, and was always looking for someone (anyone!) to fuck, lick or suck her until she creamed."Who goes into that room?" I asked."Oh, businessmen, horny college students who can't get into our pants normally, even a few professors!" No! What professors would pay to see you in that room?" Well, you know my spanish tracher, Professor Johnson? I saw him leaving the viewing room once after I'd. I must admit that I was taken by surprise, but he seemed clean andlooked honest. Somehow I felt, you know woman's intuition is called,that the guy was completely harmless. I told him to come in so he wipedhis feet very carefully and followed me into the kitchen.I don't need to tell you I've had no help in the house since Tom walkedout, but as I said, I had this strange sort of unsettled feeling, and itsuddenly dawned on me what it was. If I had some help around the house Icould leave the. You love him, girl! He’s obviously head over heels for you. I saw you, we both saw you! You were a wreck. So we convinced Maris to get Glade to fight him and then kept checking up on you all week until you gave in and agreed to come back.”“We did it because we love you,” Sylva said.My wrath waned. I pondered and then immediately chose to ignore the implications of friends that I’ve only known for a few months knowing me better than I know myself.Kiera went on. “He didn’t know, honest. Look.