Licking Up Her Indian Juices So Sweet
I heard a sickening crack, and saw his head at an impossible angle from him hitting the wall. I saw his lifeless eyes.I was lucky my automation took over. Mark's car keys had fallen out of his pocket when he fell and I grabbed them and raced out the door. I wasn't thinking, I wasn't particularly scared, I wasn't trembling. My body had chosen flight and it was flying, but on auto-pilot.I clicked the remote and unlocked the drivers door of Mark's Volkswagen Phaeton W12, three open the door, got in, and slammed it shut. I twisted the key in the ignition and heard the huge 6-litre twelve cylinder engine roar to life. I shifted into drive and floored the accelerator.His Ford F150 Lightning was a fast truck, sure. But it couldn't match the performance of the Volkswagen's 12 cylinder 420 bhp engine, nor could it match the handling of the Quattro-type AWD system and Skyhook air suspension. He kept up with me for a little bit, but I took a corner and then he was gone. I heard a crash...I. He was always smiling, always laughing. His great grandfather was living with us at the time. So, in November, 1991 our house was a diverse mixture of ages and personalities. Great-grandfather was 73 at that time, that baby was sixteen months old and in between, there was myself, who was 34, my husband was 27, my two daughters were 10 and 12. I remember you sitting on your papa’s lap while I vacuumed the floor. He was laughing, holding you as I acted like I was going to run you over with the vacuum. Your laughter floated throughout the house like a bubbling brook. Your papa made us take you to Wal-Mart to buy a push toy because you wanted to push the fly swatter around on the floor. So many memories. So many good memories. When you came to us to stay, you were sick. We had you in the doctor’s office at least once a week, until February, when you were hospitalized for double pneumonia. Such a sick little baby. I held you through the night, either in the bed or in a rocking chair..
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