She traced her fingers around her hardening nipples before grazing a nail against the sensitive buds, making her close her eyes and gasp with bliss. S...e could feel herself getting wet at the skilled work of her fingers and the idea of touching herself at work-she felt naughty, dirty, spreading her legs wider as her fingers dipped into the lacy hem of her moist panties. Her fingers saught out her delicate clit as her other hand continued to grope and fondle her breasts, seeking pleasure from her. It seems that rain lends itself to such solemn occasions. The sound of the rain turns into a lament for the pain of the living, and the soaking rain provides a glimpse of the clammy chill of the grave.Standing over the freshly dug grave, Michael Dane had no words, no thoughts, only feelings.Feelings of rage. Feelings of pain. Feelings of love-- and an overwhelming thirst for revenge.For thirty-eight years Michael's life had been-- interesting. From the day he was born, Michael had led a unique. More

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