Half the books she owned were blurred from the water of the bathtub, and their covers were corrugated like tin from the effect of the steam on their c...vers.She slipped her arms into the quilted satin fabric of the knee-length pink housecoat, shivering a bit, her big breasts bouncing, at the first coldness of the material against her skin. Then she padded back across the room to the vanity table. She ignored the soggy bowl of breakfast food, but snatched the magazine from the powder-glazed glass. Starting as usual with her large, firm breasts she gently ran her soapy hands over them all the while noticing how tender they were. Small bruises appeared on each and her nipples were almost too tender to touch. Shaking her head she continued to suppress the memories that tried to form in her mind regarding the source of these many hurts. Dropping her hand between her legs she again felt tenderness and soreness. The scenes again began to form in her mind and again Debbie had to fight to keep. More

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