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"Theresa gave a pretended sulky look but then smiled and followed the others through. Laura had drawn up a series of chairs in a semi-circle in front of television and they all sat down."Well, welcome everybody," she said, kicking things off. "And especially welcome to Liz. We all hope you enjoy yourself, Liz." The others nodded in agreement, not seeming at all embarrassed just as Hannah had said."Now you know we each agreed to bring along a video or a DVD to talk about how it influenced us. Luckily we've all managed to find a different one each – thanks to Cassie for changing her choice so it didn't clash with Mandy. So, who is going to kick things off? How about you Hannah?"Hannah looked around got to her feet and took up her place beside the television. She took a DVD case out of her handbag and slipped the silver disk into the player beneath the TV."The film I've chosen is 'The Collector'. I know it's a bit corny and it's over forty years old now but it's a film that I remember as. She fitted onto my form with ease, our bodies melting together and our tits nestling comfortably between each other, our flat stomachs causing the heat from our cunts to escape, I moaned, 'Fuck baby, you make so horny', and we kissed passionately, licking each others faces and tonsils, our long tongues adapted for licking deep inside our pussies, we would tease each other at being able to touch our noses, a lesbian trait, poking your lovers snatch was more enjoyable if you could lick your eyebrows with your tongue. 'Fuck me Sophie sweetheart', I moaned out loudly, 'Fuck me baby', and I held her body tightly as my hips bucked hard against her inserted thigh, I rolled them to crush my clitoris as I heaved up and down he thigh length, 'Me too baby', she gasped as I brought my own thigh in hard against her cunt.We were dirty mouthing and humping, when I noticed old holy-Joe, her fucked-up excuse of a father, standing in the doorway, jacking-off watching us, 'That's it Sophie', I moaned,.
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But no one questioned influenza. It happened before and most harbinger scientists warned that it was only a matter of time before it would strike again. Collin wound along a two-lane road that skirted downtown Gannis Falls. He felt swallowed among the elder oaks that lined the shoulder, Gannis Falls had cultivated those trees for years as a sort of notable feature on the town. And every year, the town council made it a political politeness to dedicate one tree to a notable Gannis Falls resident. Collin Bainbridge was the youngest recipient of a tree in the town’s history. He sped past his tree without wincing, flinching, or even diverting his eyes. It took self will and control the likes he never experienced to not look at the plaque spiked into the ground before his tree. Still, even in that moment passing it, Collin could see more than he cared to see of it – dark, freckled bark with thick overhanging limbs that seemed to almost be bare of greenery. A dead tree for a man who was.

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