She wished she could have met this Brenda. What kind of generous spirit must she have had to raise Donald while all the time keeping Rose's memory ali...e for the boy? How difficult must that have been?Rose saw that Donald seemed to have withdrawn within himself after re-telling the story of Brenda and Graham's death. She tried to think of the right thing to say to try to comfort her son."I think I would have liked your Mama Brenda," she told him."I do too. Why isn't Papa Johnny with us?" Donald. They felt very luxurious and she knew that David would be appreciative. She hopped back into her car and drove home.“David; are you home?” Jennifer called as she closed and locked the front door behind her.“Upstairs; in my room,” David called back.Jennifer smiled to herself; she lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties and dropped them into her purse. She prayed herself liberally with perfume, checked her makeup and then climbed the stairs. She knew that her mother was at a parent teacher. My hair becomes quickly saturated and my hands smooth it down over my scalp. My eyes closed, my head back, I relax for a moment and think of you.The water pulses over my skin and I feel your fingers there instead. The soft slow caress of your hands. Do you know the power you have over me? I can't help but let my hands move where yours should be. Water cascades down me, making my fingers glide easily over my body. It's your hands moving over me, your body I want so much. My fingers find my hard. He was tired and achey and really couldn’t be bothered by any of this phone stuff.Upon picking up the receiver, he found out it was, in fact, Lance on the other end of the line, he was even more irritated. He had just started to get a little comfortable after the miserable experience he had walking ten miles in the snow to safety. He wanted to be left alone, especially by asswipe motherfuckers like Lance.I don’t have any illusions about being a nice person or anything, but even not-nice people.
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