She is, after all, a professional at making things up for a living. It was just that inspiration has been… elusive. For twelve months. Not a single ...olitary splash of ink on the page, just wine, lots and lots of wine.Willow looks mournfully out at the pines, suddenly regretful for having had a “childish hissy” as Aunt Mireille liked to call them. She licks her lips, desperate for one more swallow. Ivalo was intended to spark inspiration while fulfilling a wish she had had since childhood. The. “Molly, you are coming with us if I have to tie you up. Go in and get your stuff,” I told her.She didn’t even look up at me before running into her house. I saw the lights come on in her room and then turn back out a minute later. Molly was holding her “go bag” as she came outside.We loaded in my Camry and headed back to my house.On the way, I told them, “You will wear proper clothes that cover everything when you are not in my bedroom, the guest room, changing room by the garage, or in the. I looked down at my glass of bourbon — looking for answers. Maybe it worked like tea leaves: I stirred the ice with my finger watching the swirls with rapt fascination, looking for answers. Hell, I thought, as I walked over to the bar wondering if more whiskey would give better swirls, even one answer would be great.I'd been sitting in my den, half watching the Broncos trying to make a comeback. What I was really thinking about was the appointment with the jeweler this afternoon. I was ready to. " Make the choice, Dad. Make the choice. I'm not going to wait all day." He started waving that big knife around again.Dad looked at me and said, "Dieter, you get with Cara. Be gentle with her."I moved to where Cara was sitting on the sofa. Without asking, she stood and moved to the end, bending forward over the arm just as she had seen Mom do. I reached for the suntan lotion and smeared some on my cock. Cara reached back and spread her ass cheeks with her hands, exposing her cute little.