She sprayed dollops onto his nipples and bent over to lick them off slowly and thoroughly. As she did so she pondered what had led her to this. Was t...is just revenge against his nasty wife? Was it a reward for his kind words to her? There were elements of both at play in her, adding to Katies excitement. Was it some sort of misguided love thing, seeing the man of her dreams in a bridal suite? Or was it just an opportunity fate had afforded her that couldnt go to waste. The groom made sounds. I've been scratching out this particular poem for a while now; it's not coming very easily. Writing about my self-harm always seems to be much more of an effort than writing about my transsexuality, or my depression. It's difficult to get the words out, and there are special skills involved in the process.For instance: it is vital that you DO NOT read what you have written straight after you have written it. Since writing about it requires me to be depressed in the first place, I've found. "He pulled her over to him and then he leaned half way down to her.First he started kissing and teasing her lips, then he became wilder and wilder until he had his fingers on the smooth, firm nipples of her tits. She squirmed and grunted under his touch.The more he played with her tits, the harder she squeezed the hard, thick tool that jumped and pulsed in her hand.Then, without warning, he was on top of her and she was bucking and thrashing wildly beneath him."You are a beautiful woman," he. "Here comes my designated driver right now." Damn! She knew by the look on Betty’s face that she was ready to call it a night. Why so soon? Why now? "We'd better be on our way, Nancy,” her friend announced. “It's raining pretty hard out there and it's going to be a nasty drive home," Betty briefly turned her attention to the stranger and commented, "Nice costume, Drac." He responded with a smirk and a silent bow and then did the same to the green-faced witch when she winked at him. "I'm sorry..