We worked well together and spent long hours in my conference room, A/V corner, studying my flaws and improvement. Big Bill loved to remind me that, "...ou can't coach a ninety plus mile an hour rising fastball." He was always building me up, instead of pointing out my flaws. "If you stay focused, forget about all those trick pitches they will try to teach you, you will be a fearsome closer. Don't forget – ever - they teach trick pitches to boys that can't throw like you."There had to be some. Looking down on her soft bald vagina, polished by her cum till it shone, I bent over and kissed her tummy area, and her navel again, feeling the warmth of her body pulsing out. Her soft skin felt delightful, so sweet, so lovely. I pressed my lips onto her and nibbled my way down again to her wet cunt, licking up her wetness and stickiness. She squeaked again and cried: “FUCK ME NOW, PLEASE!” This instruction could not be refused, as she was obviously frustrated, so I slowly, and gently, entered. ’ Michael asked. He took her hand in his and all of her fears evaporated, the connection ratcheted up in intensity again, she heard his voice, something about a discussion. ‘Yes that would be wonderful, I’m glad your feeling better,’ she said lamely as he dropped her hand and moved his to the small of her back, occasionally touching her but always close, she could feel it even when his hand floated above her skin, not physically joined but connected nonetheless. As they made their way back to. I felt terrible but it was how I felt. I knew then that I had a long hard road ahead of me. I was going to suffer for what I had started but what hurt me the most was knowing the pain I was going to cause other, innocent people. People who didn’t deserve such treatment. I lay back on the bed where I drifted into a restless, exhausted sleep and the last words I heard were, “Good night my love. I will be here if you need me.” As reality faded into darkness I felt a warm salty tear well up in.