He e-mailed me when I first began to write my stories, and post them so the public could view what it was I had to say, which was almost four years ag... now. At first he was kind, and we exchanged pleasantries and fantasies. The pleasantries soon stopped, and he e-mailed me with words that I never thought that I would ever read. In the e-mail he called me a whore, a fuck toy, and a no good slut. The words surprisingly enough caused my body to quiver and my pussy to become soaked. I would have. "Hell no! Just put your eyes back in their sockets and get your ass back in here and help me!" she sounded less angry. So I slid the curtain open and started to hand her a towel. "Fuck that! Just get your arm under mine and help me up." Her eyes gravitated to the tent still apparent in my pants.I leaned forward, my face almost touching her hot wet breast, and slipped my arm around her back. She grabbed my other arm with her other hand and we managed to get her to her feet. She stepped out of. Alice noticed his bowl was empty and asked if he wanted more. Jake was still hungry, but he didn't want to appear greedy. Somehow, she could see in his face he was still hungry and she picked up his bowl, went to the stove and scooped up another helping. Without asking, she went to an open door at the back of the kitchen and he could hear her going down a set of steps. She disappeared for a few moments and when she returned, she had a bottle of beer in her hand and Jake could see condensation. ‘Can you sing?’ she was interested. I shrugged and continued to strum and she leaned toward me to try and get my attention. ‘What to sing something, try it out?’ she requested and I shook my head slowly feeling the blood rush to my face. ‘Stage fright,’ I admitted and she rolled over turning her back to me. ‘Pretend I’m not here,’ she called to me over her shoulder. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I strummed the intro to Pearl Jam’s Just Breathe. ‘Yes I understand that every life must.