Slowly She Awakened

 

Slowly she awakened, stretching, crawling, clawing out of the hole she had created for herself.  Slowly she came nigh him.  Slowly she got up.  Slowly she qaed to him.  Slowly she raised herself to the tip of his cock.  Slowly she turned round.  Slowly she retrieved her dagger from her side.  Slowly she raised her hand to end his life and her torment.  Slowly she relaxed, but her hips had taken up a motion of their own.  Slowly she went mad while he searched for another body.  Slowly she looked upon him.  Slowly she leaned back, arching her small body against the belt, rolling her head back.  Slowly she moved her hand to the wound.  Slowly she lifted her gaze upward to see Sesame standing with a look of horror on his face.  Slowly she unclenched her hands and worked each finger, bending each joint.  Slowly she stretched and turned over.  Slowly she got up.  Slowly she dressed, a warm smile on her lips as again she watched him sleep.  Slowly she's pushin that screen door open and steppin out onto her sittin porch.  Slowly she's steppin out onto the porch, walkin through them hollerin sounds of her children.  Slowly she twirled round the pole, her silky hair flowing as a waterfall behind her.  Slowly she turned this way and that, quick spins on taut legs transporting her to explore an alien world.  Slowly she raised herself up on the tip of her toes, still hugging the tree with her body and one arm.  Slowly she shifted her weight, inhaled sharply and planted her other foot firmly on the stump.  Slowly she began to focus, and shapes became clearer, a voice, soft, reassuring was saying something to her, and she could feel her hand being held.  Slowly she turned, step by step, inch by inch.  Slowly she began to feel the presence of another, oddly familiar mind.  Slowly she came to a house.  Slowly she took off her hat and jacket.  Slowly she shimmied her skirt down her legs until it hit the floor.  Slowly she ran her hands up and down his fly, caressing softly through the fabric.  Slowly she pushed and pulled the turgid flesh, tugging it gently and slowly, up and down.  Slowly she waded back to shore and suppressed her emotions.  Slowly she became sleepy, but she kept Han's face in her mind.  Slowly she fell back to sleep, her pajamas soaked with sweat.  Slowly she fed and nurtured her soul.  Slowly she made her way to the driveway, the wood stacked under the eaves of the barn just on the other side.  Slowly she bent to pick up the burlap so she could lay it over the other half of the drive.  Slowly she kissed Gwen's fuzzy, brown-haired mound.  Slowly she climbed to the top while one man whipped the backs of her legs with a leather strap.  Slowly she eased herself up, trying to roll her body.  Slowly she unwrapped the harp and carried it in her arms through the shadowed rooms, looking for a sign.  Slowly she healed.  Slowly she grew.  Slowly she rose from sitting to kneeling, never breaking the kiss.  Slowly she was able to stand for a few seconds.  Slowly she began to clean up the house.  Slowly she befriended and learned about the women of the village.  Slowly she told them about her illness.  Slowly she became aware of a terrible pain in her stomach.  Slowly she looked up to the mirror and reeled back in shock.  Slowly she drew the blade out of its saya and laid it down, allowing the moonlight to play among the inazuma and the horai in the grain of the steel.  Slowly she made her way to the pastor.  He told her how wonderful it was that she gave so much and asked her to pick out three hymns.  Slowly she was beginning to make the same manoeuvres as her big sister.  Slowly she moved her way over to the door and looked out the window, his car had just left.  Slowly she began to function and the closet no longer seemed the only hope of saving herself and her kids.  Slowly she opened it and there stood a woman with her child.  Slowly she rose up to fly but came crashing to the ground.  Slowly she heard footsteps and jumped up quickly with her sword ready.  Slowly she was dying, and with a big smile she said, "I'm dying. . . what a beautiful death."  Slowly she stumbled from her bed, thinking she was already late getting started.  Slowly she started to make little circles around her love button.  Slowly she stood and adjusted her jewelry.  Slowly she began to sway to the beat of the drums that tattooed their rhythm into her very soul.  Slowly she knew it was there, and what it was doing.  Slowly she was gone.

 

 

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