"Undress, my love; show me your infection - show me your wounds. Lay engulfed within the heat of my mere existence until we reach our capacity and sleep around the regret waiting for our feet to feel the cold, grey carpet. I mutter these three words shaking in fear of losing my dearest phenomonom in the wake of our intimacy yet in hope that you, my gift from the gods, share the same emotions. I love you."
And in an instant (or so it seemed), he blanketed the cold girl\'s agony, dressing her thin body with kisses and cum. Never a night so beautiful yet so painful had ever came into the simple mind of the virgin until tonight.
"I'm not ready to be a father," as he walks out the open door into the oblivion of the front yard where children play, children die, and children grow up...........
