Then you're in my arms, those wet scorching lips are devouring my mouth, breathing heavily already. I run my hand up your back, pressing you tight aga...nst me, tongues wrestling playfully.... Your t-shirt is old, faded from many washings, worn thin from years of use and it clings to your curves as if it fully appreciates the privilege. I can feel that there's nothing beneath it but you, and the realization pours through me in a rush. I grow hard and thick beneath my cut-offs; pressed as tightly. In fact, my gifts far outstripped Amelia’s.Waking up the morning after, I’d been gifted with finding Amelia still in my bed, curled up next to me. I’d been gifted to be able to study her as she slept. There was, in her face, an innocent purity I associated with some of the very greatest child actors; Shirley Temple, Dakota Fanning, just prettier. Amelia, quiet and relaxed in sleep, was younger, her face missing the influence of her personality. Small nostrils flared gently with each silent. More

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