But was I?She was back there, behind me, still sleeping in my bed. Did I want to make love to her? Hell, yes! Did I have enough self-control not to hurt her? Hell no! And that was the dilemma I wrestled with. She could kiss me into a fog of desire, that state where I forget, where I want, where I become selfish.The cordless phone trilled on the table. I checked my watch. Six-fifteen. Early.“Hello?”“Hey, Mike. You’re up early,” Peter said.“If you thought I’d still be in bed, why call this. I've been through intensive physical therapy ever since. I still go two or three times a week. I do have some use of my legs. I can stand up, although I'm a little wobbly. Sometimes, I can even take a step or two."It was Dave who finally spoke up. "Have you been improving over time? Do they think you'll continue to get better?" To answer your first question," she replied, "yes, I've shown slow but steady improvement. I had almost no feeling in my legs at first. It's been hard work – harder than. I followed as i was told. you ripped off my undies and proceeded to finger my holes. you slap my ass and told me to get on top of the coffee table. you kept finger fucking til my pussy is dripping wet and there's a pool of pussy juice running down my thigh to the table. you got up, walked over, and stood infront of me. you told me to take off your pants and underwear. i did and your huge, hard, fat cock jumped into my face. you slapped me with it a few times before i take it in my mouth and. . in one hand, and his balls in the other. He had a funny look on his face ... and I looked closer. White shit was shooting out the end of his ... his dick. Damn, I thought. My own brother. Fuckin’ cumming, on camera.“Where’d you get that?” I breathed. I knew he could tell it was my brother, just from the way I was talking.“Oh, from a ... from a friend,” he finally said, smiling gently.“Thank you, Desod,” I said, smiling at him. “Thank you for showing me that.”“Oh, it was my pleasure,” he said..
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