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It wasn’t like any afterglow she had ever experienced before though, it was more of a low comfortable burn. There was a fire in her that she knew would flare up again. She wondered what it would take to fan it. “Wowwww.” She sighed at her reflection and the direction of her thoughts. “What are you two up to in there?” she asked the blue green spot near her clavicle. “Mysterious supernatural indeed!” This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to actual events, characters, persons, alive or dead or beings of Earth or the multiverse, past, present or future, is purely coincidental. Unless, of course, I'm psychic, in which case this a work of non-fiction. But I highly doubt that, I'm not that attuned. I mean if I was, I’d have won Powerball by now and been able to afford creative writing classes and a proofreader. Be forewarned, these writings may trigger some issue or issues that you have, either by the language used or it’s content in general. If you are one to get bothered by every little thing, just close it now and step away from wherever the hell it is that you are reading this. --------------------------------------------------------------- After Days Chronicles --------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter I - The Sun, The Moon and A Cabin In a Vale amateur � The sunlight revels through the leaves of the trees embracing the silhouette of a girl� in a ramshackle chair. She's a little smaller than average, graceful, in an uncoordinated way, with blonde hair that falls fluidly, almost halfway down her back. There's a star away look, in her glacier-blue eyes, that makes her appear younger than her years, and oh so much younger, than the sorrows that she’s seen. Her face is airy and thread worn. Yet, there Brunette lies in it a countenance of steeled determination, hidden ever so cleverly by a day dreamy gaze, that obscures the soft glow of a fiery, calm resilience. Calloused, dexterous fingers smooth the wrinkles in her garment, as she methodically eyes the body, of the stranger, laying in the bed beside the chair where she sits. For seventeen days she's been here, alone with her thoughts and chores. In silence mostly. Save, for the sounds of the life outside and the, more than occasional, groans of agony from that same prostrate form. Urgent sounds, that prompt a rush of adrenaline and fuel her fatigued and strained body towards action. The light, fondly, touches upon her pale skin, caressing through the gossamer fabric of an old lace curtain, a relic that she's fashioned, quite nicely, into a practical japanese sundress.� The vision, within the sheer threads that she dons, whisper of points and curves, hinting reverently at the multitude of scars, that call her skin home. Scars, that rival those on the body of the man, that writhes in pain, in the makeshift bed that she sits vigil over. � So, she reaches for the rag, in the wooden bowl at her feet, and tenderly washes his traumatized skin with care. Tendrils of asian steam rise from the ivory satin cloth, hinted with the essences of mint and clove, and other spices and oils that she’s mixed together to aid his healing. The cloth touches him softly. His body trembles, sighs, then settles again as her fingers delicately guide it along every curve, tracing lines along paths she now knows so well. Her breasts swell and ache as the purled fabric teases upon the more rigid flesh of their tender protrusions. She fights off the desire it instills, but relishes in the energy it invokes within her. Focusing her will on her calling, she babe strengthens her shoulders and exhales, fortifying� her attention on healing and not the seductive calling of his flesh. Flesh that glistens, with the passing of the rag, as her hand smooths over every tempting inch. � A moan, different in message than she's heard before, escapes his throat and tempts that resolve. She grinds against the chair unconsciously. "Sorry dad." “Why? “God I can’t stand my roommates, I can’t believe they’re friends with that fudge packer,” he said as he sat down next to me on the couch. We went to his bedroom and he stripped naked and jumped under the babe covers. Her cum spattered face was now directly in his line of view. She wanted me to join your meeting once. The crystal uses your will Brunette japanese as a battery, so if your will isn’t to injure…~ 'I don't hear anything yet, but they could just be having quiet sex. "Of course, I planned it, Deb. They had killed her in fear of discovery. She said that amateur that was much more than enough, but the excess she would enter as a contingency fund covering any future emergency needs. Axel opened his eyes. He looked around the room. The City Council has agreed that we need someone from outside to shake things up. asian "I-uh-nee-need-to tell-you more." I could feel my nipples stiffening at the feel of her breasts against mine. Joseph of course agreed. Ana had warmed up the left over macaroni and cheese and beans, and had the makings of the sandwiches. Like I said before she knew me probably better than I knew myself as she gave me a smile that brought back a million memories in a split second.