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Argh! Men! They are so insufferable! And yet, I wish that Helen did not interrupt us. I wonder ... I wish..."She wanted to release her frustration and...confusion by screaming, but knew that she could not, so she silently sat there and fumed. She sat and stared unseeingly at the rapidly passing countryside, as her disappointment fermented into annoyance, which swiftly matured into outright fury, which she directed solely upon Erik."He is such an arrogant prick! I hate him! I hate him! I hate. My hunger grew every second away from him. The distance between us killed me. My heart ached for his presence and my pussy pounded at the thought of him. He was my everything and I couldn’t wait to talk to him, to see his face, to see the look in his eyes when I smile. Everything he does drives me crazy!One lonely night of writing fantasies and waiting for him to come on Skype, I started touching myself. I couldn’t help it, the anticipation was killing me. I read a story and was getting wetter. Slowly, I began to remember the things that brought us here. I remembered Cheryl being killed here. I remembered Dan telling me of Brian's death. I remembered the tormenting I received at the hands of Olaf and Salazar. I remembered my cold retribution when Jesse and her team saved me. I remembered it all up to that point, before the catatonia took over. "One thing I can't figure out," I said to Jesse. "What's that, Sugar?" she asked. "How did you come to be on that station?" I. “Will Mr. Marlowe put them on?” She asked in that same voice, her eyes lifting to meet mine, at the same time lithely stretching, lying on her back, raising a leg and offering a tiny ankle. I walked over to her, and with shaking hands, managed to fasten the intricate clasps around one offered ankle, then the other. Her eyes never left mine; after I finished, she got to her knees. She put her hands around my neck, gently pulling me down to her, kissing me; it was the softest, sweetest, most.
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