And all eyes were on me and I was dying in the pain that engulfed me and swallowed me whole. If only I could die I would be happy. Laying eyes on my son erased the pain and closed the wounds on my face and body, it breathed new life into me and assured me that our souls are real, and that our pain however intolerable is fleeting and not in vain. I was afraid to touch him as if he were made out of cotton candy and my fingers could reshape him and turn him into nothing but so much sugar from which he was made. My blood marked his body, proving that he was mine. My flesh, my blood, a new life born of my womb. A new soul to sprout wings and fly if only I could teach him. Suddenly all my fears and inadequacies as a mother seemed very real. God trusts us with this great task and I felt so much less than worthy. God my son…my son… Years later I could not begin to recall the fervor with which those brief shards of time were lived and wept and dissolved into a dream filled with nothing more. “Fuck me, oh fuck.” James slowed down his ministrations, but didn’t stop completely. He continued to slowly finger fuck her pussy until her body had stopped trembling before breaking contact with her completely. “You heard her,” Fred said, standing up and working on his belt. “She said to fuck her, so lets fuck her.” “Wait,” James said, standing up. “Paul should go first.” “Yeah, Paul,” JoJo said, her mind still clouded by her orgasm. “Wait, first?” “All or nothing, babe,” Fred informed her before pulling Paul up off the other bed. “Get in there and make us proud. Or at least don’t blow your load in the first five seconds.” “Come on, Paul. Fuck me,” JoJo said. When he didn’t comply, she rolled over onto her stomach. Getting up on her hands and knees, she reached out and grabbed the waist of his pants. After pulling him closer, she unbuttoned his pants. When she had his pants completely undone, she yanked them and they came down along with his boxers. “I said, fuck me,” JoJo snarled,.
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