Their bedroom was a sickly Barbie pink, in keeping with the tight waist bitch I flung on her fluffy pink bed. She was panting heavily her eyes wide, h...r pale skin pimply with nerves. I still had the rubber length in my hand. Waving it in front of her face I teased. "First I'm going to lick you bitch, and then we'll see you ride this monster." She squealed her green eyes welling up as she shook her head in defiance.Her skirt came of easily showing a white thong, I was down pushing her thighs. She leaned over her lover, listening. Kimiko was in there still, somewhere. The ill-shapen breasts rose and fell, almost imperceptible, true, but they still rose and fell. Where does the soul go from its sodden clay form when one is no longer alive but not yet dead? Was it still conscious in there? Was it simply unable to communicate through such decaying corpus? Did the soul struggle to be heard? Did Kimiko see Mai’s agony? She called her lover’s name, she shook those thin shoulders, suddenly. More

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