Are you awake? My hand releases your breast and slides down over the black silk which still covers your tummy. Your tummy button is there waiting... un-kissed. My hand pauses over the indentation in the fabric where that long dreamed of button lies in wait. I remember. I don’t want to break the spell so I let my hand drift further down. Your night gown has shifted upward in your sleep and my fingers encounter the elastic and the texture of your panties. I hesitate. Have I gone too. She looked, and with no other choice, she obeyed. The groom was looking at the ground till now. The family members stopped the people who wanted to take a photo of the marriage and formed a wall in a straight line.Me: Bend a little down, Bitch. So that your family members won’t see you.She bent a little. And so did I.Me (to groom): Hey, bastard. Look how I smooch your wife.I saw the groom directly in his eyes and held the bride with both hands. I kept my hands on her neck under her hair and. Joe wasn't concerned with that though, as his main thoughts wereconcentrated on how it would feel to try touching himself again for thefirst time since his doctor's appointment.Reaching into his diaper, his pulse quickened slightly as his left handmade its way towards what remained of the shaft of his penis. Theremaining nerves were sensitive enough that even his light initial touchwas enough to set his heart really racing, but that feeling was suddenlymet with an equal momentary sense of. Then there were the others, The Finnish boy killed by a Russian sniper ... the Russian soldier blown to shreds by the stick grenade thrown by the Finnish boy milliseconds before his death ... the Belfast Protestant school girl shot down in the street by the Catholics ... the Polish Jew child who died seconds after being pulled from the furnace by an American soldier ... older children, killed, or murdered ... violent ends all.Later, as he grew ... and the dead grew with him ... others found.
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