Or have an orgasm. Or a string of orgasms.It’s only four in the afternoon and the one I forced down just now would have been number eleven. Might br...ak my own record today.So here I am, resisting the urge to pick the living diaper-panty out of the many cracks and crannies of my body into which it has wedged itself, and trying my hardest to keep a straight face when the aftershock of my almost-orgasm turns into a massive cramp.Lovely. Just. Lovely.(If that Dryth ever shows his face here again, I. Because everyone know that it is money, and not stupid old goodwill that makes the world go round! And before you even knew it, you'd been driven bankrupt by your own split image, a soulless being that is nothing more than a personification of human greed and modern shoppaholicism...!Sitting alone for the entire year in your faraway little cottage, with no more than a handful of errant wishlists making their way to your doorstep, you have little to nothing in common with the busy sort of Santa. "We have some double agents in the priestesses. They say the Oracle prophesised you'd lose your virginity to the Black Knight."I froze, wondering what was going on. Sophie sagged against me, crying. I kept looking back and forth between the women, with no fucking clue what was going on. I'd heard rumours that there was a soothsayer around here, but my doom was to fuck Sophie? Not if I could help it.I patted at Sophies shoulders a moment, before putting her down while she came to grips with it. I watched as the second plane hit. The smoke, the fire. The TV cut to the Pentagon. Shit! My aunt works there! I ran and got dressed and then sat in front of the TV, watching, waiting for news. I cried, thinking one of my favorite teachers was dead. My aunt, was she alive? The phones to Washington D.C. were busy. My mom called, I kept her updated as she continued at work. The afternoon wore on, I cried as the Towers collapsed. Panicked as the Flight Number was confirmed. The shrill ring of.