I put my right arm under her right arm and put my left arm under her knees and slowly tries to lift her but she says its paining more.Then I think for...a second says the only way I can think of is getting you there is by lifting you by the waist and you holding my neck. I tell her to hold my neck tightly and she is half way up now.Now I can feel her breast pressing against my chest and I tries to lift her by the waist but it is difficult with top she has on her. She leaves me no choice but lift. I woke up several times because the stupid rib hurt. Remnants of my dreams flashed through my mind, images of Ann with others in scenes like I had seen in those pictures I hadn't liked, me standing aside, wanting to tell her that this was wrong, this wasn't how it was supposed to be done but being unable to move or speak, or to at least close my eyes.As I lay in the dark beside Ann, her breath caressing my neck, her arm loose across my flank, the very first light of dawn visible through the big. He bitched some more… it quickly escalated into a heated argument in which dishes were broke and yelling and screaming were inevitable. Our anger was fueled my sexual frustration and the petty things we were bitching about. As he was yelling at me about toothpaste or something, I started to get fed up, no longer paying the little attention I was at first, I couldn’t help but notice the same fire and passion I haven’t gotten from him sexually. The more he yelled the more tense he got. His blood. Her stomach had flattened with the exercises she had religiously done to tone up, her legs, she thought to be her best feature, were long and toned with the remnants of summer sun still remaining as a light tan to her skin. He remained kneeling between her legs that dangled over the edge of the bed. Slowly, his hands covered her knees then, slowly travelling up in parallel lines, over her thighs, meeting at her mons, then, over her stomach in a delicate touch that had her tingling in.
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