Surely, she was in the throes of sorrow. She had no family or friends to help her, or even turn to for a shoulder to cry on. She had given in to tyran...s, forced to accept the unacceptable. How could he blame her? Paul missed her already. It hurt to lose her. Loss was an old acquaintance of Paul’s. Here it was again, an unwelcome guest—a squatter living again in his soul. It was true that the pain of the loss of Sally five years ago was worse by far. It wasn’t the pain that Paul could not bear. Inside her you find paradise. She's wonderfully tight; you can't move inside her at all, but then you don't need to. You relax and let her dying body do the work. Her spasms and convulsions are incredible. It's so much better than willing flesh. You caress her taut young breasts through the wet fabric of her top. You can feel her pain, and it is vast. They say that drowning is an easy death, but you know that's a lie. You see that her lungs are burning, that they're about to explode. . This only made me go faster, I couldn't help myself, I grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled, continuing to fuck my big brother while he was standing. "Mm Michael that's it, do you like your little sister fucking you like this?" I asked seductively. That set him off. He looked up at me and kissed me so hard it almost hurt. He then wrapped his arms around my waist, securing me against him. And again without warning, he pounded into me. Fast, hard. I barely had time to cry out before he was. It also made it possible to move the chicken run from time to time to new spots, giving the hens more space to free range during the day. At night, they had to be herded back into their fenced in coop where foxes, opossums and other potential varmints couldn’t get in, and were released to their new run only after they laid their eggs.The chickens were happy, flapping their wings, making lots of noise, foraging for tasty grass, running after insects, scratching, sunbathing, and moving about with.