It's okay mostly when it's bringing me up out of depression, but then I never get the really intense drive to complete something. I don't get the high... My voices don't talk." You hear voices?" Oh shit!"Sure. They all shut up when I write them down. Somebody said that if you hear voices in your head and they are ignoring you, then you are probably a writer. I know what will happen if I go off of the drugs, but I hate being on them." I think you're a great writer. I was so afraid that you were. ..to be fucked by it." "Of course you did, I've known you for a long time, have you ever had anyone's that was that impressive to you before? I mean even before we met?" Michael asked. "Oh God no, never, not like his. Oh yes, and I do remember feeling that I wanted to be good for it, ...I mean for him. I wanted to really be good for him." Michelle whispered. Michael actually loved her comment. Michelle always wanted to satisfy, but it might have been a matter of pride for Michael as well, after. It was so very different from the first time that we had shared a carriage. Hands in their laps, they contented themselves with the view from the car. It may be that they had some apprehension regarding what awaited them in Greenwich but, if so, they gave no evidence of it.The Pool of London was busy with steamers, paddle freighters and sailing vessels, all fighting for berth space to unload or load their cargoes. As we passed Limehouse, Amanda gave a nervous glance towards an ocean-going junk. He grabbed my pants and boyshorts and pulled them off with a hard yank. He looked down at my body and smiled."God I love your beautiful body. Your body screams for mine. Doesn't it?" he said getting on to the bed and kneeling between my legs."Yes. Please Scott. I don't think I can last long tonight. I need your hands on me. I need your cock inside me filling me up," I said moaning when his fingers teased my pussy. He slipped a single finger inside and slid it out. He put his face between my.