The wolves are coming down around the bend. You can hear their paws churning up the snow like a magic wand blender pound pound pound crunch crunch crunch. You’re inside. You’ve got your feet kicked up on an antique table – one that will eventually become an heirloom – except it already is – you like to forget that your grandma didn’t die last year after selling everything she couldn’t seal in the coffin – more surprised that she didn’t cremate herself in the house – still it was nice of the neighbors to have an estate sale thereby allowing you to refurbish your home – once your grandmothers home pronto.
But the wolves. They’ve been doing this every night. There’s been a problem with wolves once the intactivist starting promoting the rebuilding and reestablishing of the forest – nice and good in theory but no less than 3 cats have already been lost to the intactivist. Your girlfriend’s was one of them – when you still couldn’t manage to cry at the little cat funeral she had she broke up with you. But here’s the thing – emotions aren’t your thing and she knows that. She just came to the incorrect conclusion that if you really loved her – like you say you do everytime you cum – you would at least squirt a lemon in your eye to cry.
she wakes up with a start …. “Aaaaaooooooooo Aaaaaaaaaoooooo you hurt me now i’ve gotta let you go.”