My hands flutter over your chest, your shoulders, your arms, like fireflies, not sure where to land. I can feel your warmth everywhere, and I want y...u closer to me. I fumble with your rain-soaked jeans, and feel your hands doing the same frustrating dance at my waist. I raise my hips, and you slide the wet clothing from my body, rubbing my skin in your warm hands, and watching the light of the flames dancing over me. I smile up at you as I finally get your pants undone, and push. He felt the razor-sharp knife slice through his sack and couldn’t help but watch through watery eyes as she carved a thin slice of meat and cake off the front of his balls. Though the excruciating pain was something he’d never felt before, it wasn’t bad enough to make him forget his cock, and even though his eyes were tearing, he watched – captivated – as she brought the fork to her mouth.When he wrote his stories, he’d never really dwelled much on what the tormentors thought of their special. More

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