. wordless... mewing lament... "it can all be over..." i continue... "no more pain... no more suffering... just bliss... quiet oblivion and bliss... a...l you need to do is say the word... one little word and it will be over... no effort... no strain... just a word... just say it... say it... is that so hard...??? so much to ask...???" and here calm and almost quiet begins to rise... soft tones replaced by deeper meaning... menace growing... a return to what was before and now... words clipped.... It’s a great talent to have, yet it comes with a threat: you have no idea how you do what you do, do you? You’re a slave to a brain that may, at any point, decide to no longer provide you with those sudden intuitions, spoken aloud the moment they appear, taking consciousness for a ride and making it parse the words coming out of your mouth, and only then allowing you access to meaning, evaluating it, and initiating mitigating actions when, as is bound to happen a bit too frequently, that. “Oh. Oh, yes. Yes! Yes!” she said, passionately as I kept on rubbing and sucking.“YEAH!” she screamed in my ear as her orgasm hit her. I felt her body shake and tense, then relax again only to clench repeatedly as more spasms hit her. “Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah...” kept coming out as she climaxed. Cindy had always been the demonstrative sort when she came, but at least this time she was not biting my shoulder, which she had been known to do in the past as an orgasm engulfed her. I had pulled. "Now pick up your crayons and go get ready for supper," he said.The girl grasped the paper that she had been meticulously annihilating before he had arrived and held it up to him. Smiling he took it and placed it on the refrigerator with a magnet. Amy leaned over, scooped all of her crayons into the nearby ice cream bucket where they were stored and scurried off into the next room to wash her hands.Bryan looked at the picture on the refrigerator door and smiled. "I think she colored everywhere.
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