- ← Previous Story
Story No. 38479
- Group:
- Next Story →
John Redcorn had the nastiest way of
pulling on a man's rod. She would gently stroke it until
it could salute
and favour itself, it surely would. But in this case,
felt remorse for what had been, and never will be again.
And years later, in some far off forgotten place, I would look back at those halcyon days, and realise holding back a tear that nostalgia is not what it used to be.
