That's not a writer's currency. I want to know about you, everything about you. Your life, your lovers, your experiences, what you've learnt, what you...ve been told -- most importantly, what you feel. That's what I mean by sucking people dry. A good writer is a vampire: we swallow your life's blood and spit out it as ink on pages." "That's the reason you're taking my bra off, is it? So you can talk to me?" "No, it's because I'm going to fuck you. After that we talk." "It sounds as if being a. Her alter-ego was sort of fiddling around, waiting to continue, but Maria's eyes were drawn to her own cleavage swelling inside the tight dress, the soft orbs of flesh swelling visibly with each breath. She was disgusted — was she now lusting after herself?"Mmmm, I can just picture you in my mind there, frigging yourself with that toy," slut-Maria cooed. "I'll bet Deb would like to see this. But, I want this to be just between us for now. So, where was I? Ah yes, I wanted you to know that. Greg managed an occasional grunt to keep the conversation going, but even that was hard for him, and when she casually slipped a hand down to her groin and inserted a middle finger and gently began to pleasure herself, he was left speechless. “Oh, for goodness sake,” she interrupted her flow of sexual chat, “open your fly and let that monster breath, it’s strangling to death inside there!” It certainly felt like that to Greg. He did as he was bade, and with difficulty because of it’s rigid. Our Senior Prom. Sharing Bethany and Kathy. College. Sharing Bethany and Pam. Punching Gene. Trying to be a couple. The accident. Andrew. The break up. Our weekend in Kohler. Nick. The funeral. The sheer emotion of those memories caused my head to spin and my knees to grow week.“Steve? Steve?” I heard Bethany say through a slight fog.I recovered after a moment.“Sorry. I just got a bit dizzy.”Bethany took my arm and carefully led me back to the bedroom and had me sit on the bed.“What happened.