"Let me make you feel better!" I demanded."How?" she asked.I ran my hands down to her hips and slipped my fingers under her waistband, slowly starting...to pull them down. She grabbed at her shorts and held them up, telling me, "I'm not ready to go all the way." We won't," I assured her. "But I can make you feel better than you've ever imagined."She hesitated, but then let go of her shorts. I slowly pulled off her shorts, taking her panties with them. As they came down, they exposed a trimmed. The jagged little pinchers on the ends of the clothespins held my nipple-flesh in their mouths and squeezed them hard.My son was putting a restrictive leather neck brace on me that gave me a choking sensation when my husband stormed out of the kitchen.Stefan was sullen and bitter towards me. Despite his apparent disdain for what I was doing, my husband presented himself like a White Knight coming to my rescue. He waved his hands. “Meatloaf! Meatloaf! This is too much for your Mom!”Some. She wanted to remember the man who would save herfrom feeling lonely when she was home alone in the future as she wasright now. She said, "Jermaine, I will never be ready to kiss you. Ithought we were just starting a friendship. I did not think you feltthat way about me. It would be for the best if we do not see each otheragain."The situation was just not adding up to Jermaine. He knew that the ladywho he wanted as his one and only felt the same about him. He knew thetime they spent together. She rode with one of the guards in their car, while two of them accompanied me in the ambulance. One rode in back, the other up front.The hospital was a blur of activity. I was quickly brought in, checked out, and deposited in a private room. My guards (all three of them, now back together) took turns watching over me, as did Sandy. The conclusion in the end, was that I had a mild concussion. There was not much else wrong with me; other than a very large, and very yellow-purple bruise, on my.
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