XX

      "Two more coming..."

       There were still movements on him. Ruthlessly rhythmic. He was trying to be sane. He was trying to relate with what had been supplanted. He couldn't arrive at a sane conclusion. He didn't know how to do that. He was weary of doing that. He needed time to think. He didn't know if he was yet living or not. He didn't know if he was yet breathing on not. But he could feel the pleasure reaching for the cleavages of his instinct. He could feel pain tearing his instinct apart. He could feel pleasure poring the pain. He didn't want it to stop. He didn't want it to continue. He was held in the claws of indecision. He was put up to measure with the hate the odds had given to him. He was trying to make end of the sporadic spills. He just couldn't arrive at a sane pull. He didn't want the odds to end. He felt her hands on his chest. He felt boobs all over him. Strong surges were ruth

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