Chapter 17 Part B
Friday Morning: Goddess what a night, I’m still exhausted and yet we didn’t solve anything. Or maybe we did. She was all aglow with pride and said that only I could have figured it out and even Mr. Giles praised my insight. I still don’t know that it gets us anywhere, but it could be I’m still just too tired to fully understand what we accomplished. All I know is that she almost got hurt, wounded in a way that would devastate her more than any physical injury, and we still aren’t done, yet.
I’ve never been so scared. Scared that something will happen to her. Not kill her necessarily, though that’s certainly a possibility, but that would change her, make her different than the beautiful, shining, engaging person I know and love more than anything else. A shudder runs through me at the thought of the spark in her eyes fading, her lustrous locks turning dull and flat. Damn both Golina and Sarissa for ever raising such an image!
OK, get a hold of yourself. Write and you’ll feel better.
It was strange heading back to our dorm with Mr. Giles in tow. Hah, I mean my dorm, my room. We’ve been spending so much time together lately that I’ve come to think of it as ‘ours.’ I can’t help it, this last what, week? Has it only been a week? Has been so incredible that it seems like it’s been months. Time hasn’t sped up it’s slowed down. Each moment we’re together is like a perfect snowflake, breathtakingly beautiful, precise, exquisite and yet each nuance is crystal clear. The world goes by, the background all a blur while we move at our own pace, isolated from everything else, but she’s always in focus. Goddess, how could she not be? We revolve around each other like two astronomical bodies and all else is fuzzy, far away stars. When things start to speed up again will that mean the newness is gone? Will that be when we’re both so accustomed to one another that we take each other for granted? Please, Goddess, never let us reach that stage.
We walked back together and it was still unusually muggy and warm. It had rained a bit while we’d done our research and water dripped off tree branches and lightpoles, gathering in small pools we stepped around. A faint mist surrounded the streetlights giving them an odd ball-like luminescence that was dim and indistinct. Sounds were similarly distant and it reminded me of the pall that had settled over everyone on campus. Oddly, only our footsteps seemed sharp and out of place…brittle somehow.
I wanted to hold her tightly to me, take her arm and feel her pulse throbbing against my hand, experience that electric tingle of our joined energies, to know that the fire of life still existed. However, Mr. Giles loomed behind us like a colossus, silent yet somehow brooding with disapproval.
I don’t know why I felt that, it’s certainly not fair to him, but maybe he just seems too much like a father figure, and that certainly doesn’t resonate well with me.
We passed Mandy on the way into the dorm and the scene was made more surreal by her relatively friendly greeting in passing. Bringing Mr. Giles into my room, clicking on the lights, made me feel odd, like I was a young kid and I was waiting for his approval or something. He did go to my bookshelf and glance over the various volumes there, made a few approving or interested comments on some of them. I glanced at her and could tell that she was kinda wigged, too. I mean, we’d been together, naked, in the bed earlier that day, and here he was in the same room.
Just thinking of her and me in that position made my face heat up and my heart race. I am such a sexaholic, but, I wanted her kissing me, wanted to taste her tongue, feel her all over me, and lay next to her, skin against wonderful skin. Goddess, what she does to me...sends my thoughts in a thousand different directions, all of them naughty; makes my body ache for her. And yet, the thought of her gentle smile, soft touch, her playful ways, all make it seem like I’m ready to burst with energy, like I could accomplish anything. Sarrissa better watch out. I think of my Willow, how much I love her and it’s like there’s a endless river springing from my heart and roaring through me with a torrent of power that will sweep anything from its path.
OK, enough of that already, I’ve got to focus. At least I’m not so scared or as worried anymore. Even when she’s not here she still helps me, makes me feel better.
After glancing at each other and flushing deeper as we each realized what the other was thinking, Mr. Giles cleaned his glasses and suggested we proceed with our preparations. These involved sliding the bed away from the wall to create space for two concentric sand circles to be traced around it. Between the two, Mr. Giles added several other designs that I wasn’t familiar with. He said they would grant us some measure of protection and also encourage more lucid dreaming. And of course help us project into or through the book. We placed the book in question and our censer at the foot of the bed, filling it with a mixture of anise, chamomile, holly, huckleberry, and lastly mugwort for the astral projection properties, just in case. Then, Mr. Giles made us repeat a short waking/grounding chant, again, just to make sure we had it. He said it was for the eventuality that we got in trouble and needed to return quickly. We all hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, but it’s always better to be prepared.
We lit two candles, turned out all the lights but those on my walls, and sat on either side of the bed. We held hands and the familiar tingle of our energy flowed freely between us and began to fill the circle. This time there was no accompanying glow or luminance. Mr. Giles made several mystical gestures while chanting an invocation that would open doorways, especially to the dreamlands, which we repeated a moment later. As we lay down on the bed, the herbs began burning and the aroma filled the room. At first it was bitter, sort of caustic in the back of the nose, but, after a few moments, it seemed more pleasant, maybe even a little relaxing.
Initially I thought it would be impossible to fall asleep. I mean here we were, lying together, our hands clasped, the power thrumming between us and I was so aware of the rise and fall of her chest, the sound of her breath going in and out, and the memory of her strip dance kept rising in my mind, the echo of her breast brushing against my face…more. And all throughout Mr. Giles was sitting right there still intoning the spell to allow us access to the dream realm. I wondered if this wigged her as much as it did me?
Yet despite all that, weariness, maybe the effects of the herbs or his spell, soon pulled at my limbs and it felt like I was sinking, gently spinning and the next thing I knew we were standing outside of the farmhouse. This time it was normal sized and there were no cats about. We were also dressed in our normal clothes.
She asked if I felt all right, and I told her I did and we looked about, though our hands remained clasped and I sort of hid behind her. For some reason I was very nervous, almost skittish. The house had an ominous, foreboding aspect to it that was lacking when it had been the cats’ dwelling place. The windows seemed narrower, the roof taller, looming up and out towards us. I got the impression of a predatory beast of some kind ready to pounce on us if we were unwary. I mentioned this to her and my stutter was worse than normal. I hate that. I mean, I don’t want her to think I can’t handle the danger like she can, but I was just so nervous.
Mother, you’d be so amazed at how brave and confident my Willow is. While I was almost cringing behind her, she stood tall, strong and so beautiful. Xena never cut so heroic a figure. For a moment, as I gazed upon her, I almost thought there was a glow, a shaft of light that came down through a hole in the heavy overcast. It was momentary and my attention was absorbed by the sudden slam of wood on wood from within the house. I almost jumped out of my shoes but she hardly flinched at all.
As the area darkened we noticed other details, the overgrown herb garden to the side where the plants had been choked out by pale weeds with broad leaves that sneered at us like tiny mouths. A chill wind laden with the scent of rain kicked up and swept over us and I got the impression the house was rubbing its eaves together like some cartoon villain, though thankfully, that image didn’t last. We were on a small path, but the area around it was like a sea of tan, long, tangled, dead grass, flat and sharp edged that swayed towards us, despite the wind. An eye opened on the tip of each blade and the whole area blinked at us, the gaze maleficent and unnerving. I held her hand tighter, her grip and arm pressed against mine was reassuring. I think we smiled wanly at each other.
This time I noticed a ramshackle barn to the right, just past an unkempt garden, and a path running to it from the house. The grass must have noticed my gaze, as it turned to regard the structure as well. I swore a blood red cloud of fog seemed to emanate from the dark structure, and that something moved beyond the wide door hanging open and askew. I shuddered, something felt familiar about it capturing my attention and filling me with dread. Why did I see blood and mutilated farm animals? Angry strands of grass lapping up the red liquid?
Her voice calling out Golina’s name snapped me out of my daze and the barn was just a dilapidated structure again. She called out again, adding a greeting. Her voice didn’t shake at all, though it did seem like it was swallowed up and hardly loud enough to reach inside. She looked back at me, smiled briefly, and her face transformed to resolve. She said we should probably get closer and look inside. I hope she didn’t mind my slick, sweaty palm.
A faint voice, barely audible, called back to us. It was definitely female and invited us in, said to hurry. There was something soothing and calming about the tone, a familiarity that made me want to trust it.
We proceeded down the brief path towards the house before we had even considered our action. The bowl-like depression we were in seemed deeper and steeper now, and I recall fearing that a heavy rain might fill it up and threaten to drown us.
The grass blinked, the house rubbed its eaves and the little stream behind the dwelling burbled along, softly chanting, ‘Leave your cares behind, you can’t change your fate,’ while the clouds continued to pile up, darker and thicker by the moment. The barn still seemed ominous and the air was humid and overly warm but not hot.
I asked her if she thought we should go in, and she deliberated a moment and decided that it was probably inevitable that we do so. The house swayed with the wind as we got closer. The front door was closed, but we could still hear shutters banging and other muffled, indistinguishable sounds from inside. The voice encouraged us to hurry once more while the grass began to weep as she grasped the latch and pulled it open.
The inside was lit by a homey fire burning in a fireplace, while a very clichéd black cauldron hung on a pole over it. Knives chopped herbs on a cutting board nearby, which then floated over and dumped them into the bubbling liquid inside the cauldron. The scent of onions and garlic rose. Clay pots floated past the returning board, lids opened slightly and a couple of pinches of other powders joined the simmering mass. I giggled a bit as a broom swirled and swept around the kitchen area, clearing up anything that had fallen to the rough wood floor. It all seemed so sorcerer’s apprentice.
Whereas the outdoors had seemed menacing and foreboding, the inside radiated comfort and protection. There was a table with benches on either side of it near the fireplace, while off to our right was a living area that had several big wood chairs facing each other with pillows and homespun blankets on them. Embroidered on the furnishings were brightly colored trees, flowers and birds, all of which moved and swayed gently. Within the blanket I thought I saw little yarn bees flit back and forth from a stylized hive to the flowers. Along the walls to the right were shelves with candles, little knick knacks like a carved wooden horse and sheep, an abstract needle point pattern hung in the area beside one window like a tapestry. Another one covered part of the opposite wall. There was no sign of a loft, but two open doorways did lead deeper into the house. Through one I thought I saw a bed and trunk while the other showed a loom and what looked like more storage jars and urns.
We looked at each other, hesitating for a moment, when a trap door section of the floor suddenly slammed open and a short, dark-haired woman emerged from below carrying two small jugs with her left arm. Her face was smooth and mostly unblemished, though there were a few age lines by her eyes, and a light tan like someone who was accustomed to working part of the time outdoors. She had on a sort of plain, faded, dark blue one-piece skirt and top with a more gray than white apron over it. She saw us and gave a little start and said that she hadn’t thought we’d get here so soon. She carried the jugs up with her as she emerged from the cellar, saying that she rarely got visitors. She looked saddened by that admission, but then pleased as she looked us over. For some reason I got the feeling of meeting with a kindly grandmother.
Willow asked if she was Golina Geverti, and the woman nodded, whereupon she introduced us and told her we came from Sunnydale in the year 2000. The woman nodded, offered us seats while using her foot to close the trap door with a bang. She set the jugs down near a basin to the left of the fireplace, and gestured so that the broom went off to a corner. Meanwhile, the knives and jars seemed to have finished their tasks and also settled down. Golina said that she was just making stew and that she would be happy to share her meal with us.
Willow declined politely, and asked her where we were, to which Golina said within a land outside of time accessed through her book. She looked, not sad exactly, but like one remembering an unhappy memory, and said she made this area to bind and trap Sarissa, an evil witch who fed off others with power.
At that, the sound of a fierce rainfall came from outside. Thunder crashed while the flash of lightning lit the spaces between the shutters. The house shook and rattled, but she said that we were safe here, that Sarissa still wasn’t able to get in. She continued on telling us what a danger Sarissa was, how much evil she’d caused. She related a lot of what we already knew, though Willow asked a few questions here or there, but quite frankly I lost track of what she was saying exactly. I had intended to concentrate on her and read her energy patterns, but found the proper frame of mind eluded me.
Golina’s voice was so soothing. It sounded like a loved one’s comforting you, peaceful, relaxing, indicating that all was calm and safe. Her words seemed to blur together into a single hum or rhythm. We were seated on the bench by the table and I found myself becoming hungrier and hungrier. Three bowls of stew appeared before us as Golina joined us at the table, still explaining something about how she had fled from Spain to France. I vaguely noticed that the needlepoint designs on the walls had changed and looked similar to the symbols Mr. Giles had drawn on the floor between our circles, only more detailed and intricate.
Golina put a final pinch of something in her own bowl. She never told us to eat, but the overwhelming need to feed seemed to fill the house. The walls appeared to press closer now, while the outside storm raged stronger than before, shaking things more violently, yet somehow it was subdued and distant, like something happening to someone else, far away.
A spoon was in my hand, heavy, cool and made from some dark metal with elaborate scrollwork on the handle. It rose up, almost on its own though I could sense my arm moving, and I desperately wanted to taste the concoction, to devour it all. When the mixture hit my tongue it was as delicious as I ‘d anticipated. The little clumps of meat, potatoes and carrots blended perfectly with the savory spices and enticing aroma. With each spoonful it seemed like I could hardly get enough. I grabbed the spoon more tightly to eat faster and it clinked against my ring and there was a slight flash of silver. Somewhere in the distance I swear I heard a long, mournful catcall.
Suddenly my head was clearer, the cottage seemed older and more rundown, the bowl of stew remained full, but now contained some glowing liquid that had the consistency of quicksilver, yet gave off a deep silvery-greenish woodsy color. Golina looked more ragged and worn, her clothes nothing but rags, her body emaciated and almost skeletal, though her eyes blazed with a bright yellow intensity. The bowl in front of her contained meat and vegetables that floated in a strange diagram that gave off a pale green glow that darkened by the moment.
My ring flickered with an unsteady silver light that was matched by the contents of my bowl. I felt weak, and disoriented, but as the cat called once more, I threw the spoon away from me and knocked the one from her hand as well. It took a tremendous effort to accomplish, and I noticed that her bowl also contained a brightly glowing liquid. She shook her head and looked like one coming awake after a deep sleep. In the background we heard male chanting that sounded like someone familiar calling to us.
Golina’s face suddenly distended, elongated, her mouth forming a mosquito-like probiscus that extended towards Willow’s bowl. I screamed not to let her drink the liquid, and she grabbed my hand and used telekinesis to push Golina off her seat and back against the basin.
A shrill keening screech of anguish and frustration came from ragged witch. She cried that Sarissa was getting stronger and she could barely hold her off now. She needed our energy or the other would get loose. We couldn’t leave now or she’d get our power and no-one would be able to stop her.
Giant slivers of wood stretched from the walls, floor, and ceiling towards both of us, barring any attempt at exiting the house. The bench we sat on bent and stretched like it was made of rubber and sought to wrap around us. Both spoons floated back in front of us and Golina commanded us to continue eating.
Silver light flared up from our rings, expanding around both of us. The bench splintered leaving us standing amidst the silver luminescence, while Golina’s spell lacked any true compulsion. In her pissed off voice that she so rarely uses, Willow said that we had come to help her, to free her from Sarissa and this is the kind of reception we got?
The other witch’s countenance returned to normal and pled with us to forgive her but this was the only way she could keep Sarissa bound. If she didn’t take our energy than the other would, she was sorry but she had no other choice. The slivers of wood pushed closer, trying to grab the bowls in front of us. The table rippled, but being in our silver glow must not have been able to further change or move.
Her hand in mine closed tighter while we each grabbed the bowls. She told me to start the chant Mr. Giles had taught us while she started a protective spell. As I complied, her own words made the silver light increase threefold, blinding Golina and making her recoil. Willow waved her hand and the massive slivers of wood around us burst apart and the door out slammed open. Golina concentrated for a moment and various knives, brooms, forks and other household objects assailed us. Most rebounded from the light, but a few got through causing bruising jolts and burning cuts as blades slashed at our skin. We struggled to stay upright, holding each other and our bowls without spilling any of the liquid inside. The pain shot through us and where the items struck, they turned into large black bats, their teeth firmly embedded in each of us. I couldn’t concentrate on the chant and my words faltered. The bites were just so distracting, the moist, hideous creatures starting to make me shudder, almost uncontrollably.
I…I must confess I panicked a bit. I wasn’t sure what to do, and the house seemed to be closing in around us. What spell to cast? How to respond? I shook and my skin crawled as the bat-like creatures continued biting deeper and the bowls contents brightened.
Goddess bless her, Willow never hesitated. She began a spell to chase away bats, rats, and vermin, and I joined her with a quavering voice that strengthened as we continued, our words joining together as one and my shaking subsided.
The pain from the fangs lessened as the bats were thrust off of us, only to change into snakes and re-launch themselves against our silver glow which appeared to be darkening, it almost seemed as if the walls of the house were absorbing it.
“We need to get out of here,” I remember crying, and she nodded quickly, and we ran towards the door, the liquid in the wooden soup bowls sloshing dangerously about, threatening to spill out. Our combined telekinesis hurtled chairs, trunks and more wood slivers out of the way, held the door open as we passed through.
Golina screamed, “Nooo, she’ll have you!” as we exited the house.
Outside the air was even warmer, definitely hot, and rain fell in heavy sheets, almost knocking us to the muddy ground. We sank up to our ankles and from above came a thunderous discharge and lightning ricocheted from our light, burning a huge swath through the grass, which now looked more like long raspy tongues that sought to rub the flesh from our bones. It hissed and shriveled where the light from our rings touched it.
Another bolt was deflected by our protective spell and as we looked up we saw a hideously contorted face within the clouds. It was filled with hate, rage and hunger. Continuously flickering purple lightning served for eyes and the winds constantly changed the expression from one grotesque snarl to another. The thunder seemed to boom out, “Mine!”
A sudden blast of wind swept down on us. I was quick to ground myself, but she was ripped from my grip and went flying across the grass, past the garden and against the barn wall next to the door. Incredibly, somehow the liquid in her bowl didn’t spill.
Several ghastly cows, covered with gaping holes and expanses of exposed bone, as if already partially butchered, shambled from the darkness within the building. Their bellies swelled and pulsated before ripping open unleashing a torrent of intestines covered in tiny arms and hands that tried to grasp and wrap its way around my girl, get at what she still held before her. I screamed as she did, her head thrashing about as one of the foul organs dipped slightly into the bowl and a sick sucking sound resonated even above the crash of the storm.
I reached out to her with what telekinesis I had and pulled her towards me with all the love and desire for her that I possessed. Nothing was going to keep her from me. Never before had I been so scared for another person, wanted her beside me so much. And suddenly she was there, beside me, our hands joined once more, and the silver sphere bright about us.
Willow spun to face me while the wind battered at our silver shield, this time unable to tear us apart. Looking me in the eye she started the short chant Mr. Giles had given us in case we got into trouble, as did I, our voices in perfect synchronization.
Golina appeared in the door of her cottage carrying a broom whose bristles extended around us, trying to enwrap us in a cocoon of straw, dip into the bowls. Sarissa howled her rage and lightning danced down burning off bristles, smashing into Golina and hurling her inside. The mud beneath us became a wide mouth with black stubby teeth that gnawed at our light and then closed on our feet, drawing us down, pressing so tight I thought my feet would burst.
Then we were pitching forward and tumbling into Mr. Giles while a spiderweb of purple-pink lightning splayed across the ceiling. My Christmas lights popped and snapped sending sparks cascading down the walls. At least the black paint doesn’t show the scorch marks.
We quickly disentangled from Mr. Giles and I stammered an apology, though he assured me that none was necessary. He said that our rings had started to give off a slight glow and that scratches and cuts had started to appear on our bodies. He tried a general protection spell, and when that didn’t seem to help he began a recall, but felt a great resistance. The spellbook itself had glowed an ominous gray, and mist had started to rise out of it. He did the recall again, and shortly thereafter we suddenly shot off of the bed and into him. He added a bit sardonically that at least we didn’t knock him unconscious.
I got out the first aid kit and began dabbing and bandaging her wounds, fussing over her though she could barely sit still. She told him that our rings were also for protection and that it was a good thing we had them, too. Here she smiled at me, gave me that look and I blushed, wondering how Mr. Giles could not notice the way she gazed at me. It was so full of love, and dare I say adoration? Could that really be part of what she feels when she thinks of, or looks at, me? And here she was injured and bleeding and thinking of me, not herself. I let my hair cover my face so neither would see the tears that filled my eyes, blurred my vision and threatened to spill over.
But he didn’t, notice that is. Instead he got her to sit still, made sure that both our wounds were looked after. It…it was strange having male hands on me that were there for healing. I almost had to will myself to stay motionless. While he tended to us, he asked for a complete rundown on what happened, which we took turns telling, in between the macirachrome and bandages. Fortunately, none of the cuts were very deep, that bat creatures’ bites symbolic rather than physical. She asked about the bowls, and I said that somehow while we ate, our power replaced the brew that we consumed. If Golina, or even Sarissa, had been able to ingest it, we would have been left, not powerless, we stopped too soon for that, but greatly diminished. Mr. Giles felt that since we left that place with the bowls contents intact, we should be all right. Still, it had been a close call, and we were lucky to have come out as well as we did. He said he was very impressed.
She smiled and gave my hand a squeeze, saying that I’d gotten her away from the barn before she’d been overcome. That whole part had been pretty gross and she was glad we were gone from there. I said I’d dreamed a while back about the barn and it had seemed like a slaughterhouse or something. She wondered if it was Golina or Sarissa’s work? Mr. Giles was silent so I stammered along that it was probably Sarissa’s. Golina hadn’t felt so cold blooded and, well, evil. Just desperate. She said desperate or not, she still attacked us and that made her an enemy in her book.
At this point the watcher went over to the spellbook, placed it on my desk and examined it, as if looking for something hidden on the cover. To our inquiry he answered that he had thought he noticed some symbols on the surface, yet now there was no sign of them. She asked if he recognized the symbols or what they meant, but he remained silent, lost in contemplation. Finally he stated that the situation was clearly very dangerous, perhaps more so than we’d originally considered. It was late and he needed to consult his books. He thought it would be best if he took the book with him so we might get some rest and recuperate from our ordeal. We set up a meeting for Friday at noon and he left.
I discovered that I was pretty wiped, and from the way her limbs hung more loosely than normal and the bounce in her step was almost gone, I could tell she was exhausted, as well. We swept up the sand in silence, putting it back in one of my urns, slid the bed back into it’s proper spot and unrolled the rugs we’d moved aside. By the time we were finished I noticed that something more was bothering her. She wasn’t angry, exactly, but she was tense and stressed, her shoulders all bunched up and a little furrow on her forehead. I went over to the wall and looked at my lights and saw that the strings would have to be replaced, more than half of the bulbs were blackened or had popped, some of the cord was even melted.
I must have given a little sigh as I got the broom to make sure any glass or plastic fragments were picked up. She sat tiredly on the bed and I said I’d need to replace my lights, but thankfully neither of us was hurt. I tried to make light of it, but actually I did feel a few of the stinging cuts and for some reason my left arm had started to throb, just above the elbow. When I looked there was an ugly bruise, all black and deep green, it reminded me of Sarissa’s storm. It really wasn’t that bad, though; Donnie had given me worse. I figured this one would turn yellowish in three days, fade in four more, maybe five at the outside. I was brought back to the present as she said my name in a way I’d never heard before. It was soft and deep with concern; worry tinged with love.
She quietly said we’d been in real danger tonight, that Golina and Sarissa had both been out to get us, use us for their own purposes, and she’d fallen right into the trap. We’d been lucky to get out alive.
I came and sat next to her agreeing, but said that our rings had protected us and Mr. Giles had been there, too. And I thought I’d heard a cat at a couple times, it had helped snap me back to myself. She sort of smiled and said she’d heard that as well and it had been good timing.
But, and I knew there was a ‘but’ involved, she’d almost gotten me hurt. She knew the risks of being a Scooby, and Buffy, Riley, even Mr. Giles were all prepared or trained for danger, but if anything happened to me…and here she faded off, leaving unsaid the, ‘because of me.’
I took her hands, looked into those mesmerizing, now slightly watery, green eyes, and placed a kiss on her forehead. I asked her how she thought I would feel if she got hurt because I wasn’t there, didn’t do all I could to help her? She didn’t say anything and I moved around behind her and put my hands on her shoulders, began to massage the tension that was all bunched up there, occasionally stroking the side of her cheek.
I went on saying that the silver field had been stronger when our energies had combined. Together our telekinesis was much stronger and we’d been able to get out because we’d acted in unison. I know I wouldn’t have survived by myself, and while she was stronger than me, I didn’t think she would have either.
Here she turned and said that I was just as powerful as her, probably more so since I’d been studying so long, knew so much more. Rather than disagree with her, I said if that was true then it was all the more reason for me to be with her, to make sure she didn’t get herself into trouble that she couldn’t get out of. I half smiled as I said it, but my case and ministrations seemed to help ease her mind.
I added that if she was going to insist on walking into danger, then I was damned well going to be there beside her.
That got a big sigh and smile of acquiescence that made me fully smile. She is so cute when she’s vexed because she knows she’s wrong and doesn’t want to admit it. I gave her sweet lips a kiss, tasted her tongue and breath and knew I’d won this one. At least for now.
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