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Subject: {ASSM} RP: Becky Cried, by Poison Ivan (MF rom)
Date: Thu, 15 Jun 2000 05:10:08 -0400
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The following work of fiction contains sexual activities between
consenting adults. If you are too young, too uptight, or your
local government is too oppressive, you should stop reading now.

The following story is in the public domain. While you are
legally free to do anything you like with it, out of courtesy to
the author, I ask that you leave my name and contact information
with this story.




Becky Cried
By Poison Ivan


Gino's was open for lunch, but I was the early bird. Becky, she's
the night owl, with big round eyes and always a half-hour late. A
half-hour late for lunch, a half-hour late to the dentist, a half-
hour late for church.

She scared us when she was late for her period last month, but we
sighed and kissed and told ourselves, even so, would it be such a
bad thing? Becky and Baby and Me? I kissed her bare belly and
pressed my ear against her tummy, listening for what I don't
know. Becky cried. But it was a false alarm. You see, Becky
always runs a little late. It turns out Becky's tears were
wasted. No sense crying over one's true nature, I thought at the
time. But I'm no dope; I kept my tongue tied.

I drove into Gino's parking lot with my windshield wipers
sweeping away the late spring rain. Inside, out of the weather,
Gino's was quiet, most tables sitting vacant. Wine red
tablecloths, precisely placed silverware, big water glasses
holding folded cloth napkins. A waitress stepped up to the
reservation desk and cleared her throat. She was a pretty one,
blonde and pink-lipped, with pearly blue eyes. A gold nameplate
on the swell of her breast said "Margot," and I gave Margot a
smile. Her fingers were ring-less, and she caught me peeking at
her hands, and she quickly covered her left hand with the right,
an embarrassed gesture, as if she were naked and hiding her
privates.

I leaned against the reservation desk and gave Margot my biggest
smile. "I'm sorry, Margot," I began, and Margot blushed. But
Margot was a pistol, her face all warm and pink, but she did not
look down. Her eyes stayed right on me, strong and steady. "I am
early," I said. "Is it okay if I wait at a table?"

"How many in your party, sir?" Margot said, a trace of a southern
accent, her voice all business. But her face gave her away.
Margot was an open one, for sure. Margot's lush and blushy face,
and her nervous hands.

"Two," I said, and I held up two fingers, like a child's bunny
rabbit, and I wiggled Bunny's ears. Margot grinned and clucked
her tongue.

She held two menus to her lovely bosom and led me along, and I
watched her from behind, at the feminine swing of her curvy hips.
Margot knew I was watching. A little performance for the
appreciative audience.

Bucking for a big tip, Margot?

She sat me at a table in the back and I settled down like an old
man in his favorite chair. Margot left the menus on the empty
setting. "Can I get you something to drink while you wait?" she
asked.

I ordered a glass of wine, and Margot smiled. I smiled back.
Margot swung her hips back towards the kitchen.

Margot, Margot, Margot. Too bad I'm spoken for. Isn't it funny?
The instant you decide to settle down, and all of a sudden, every
woman you see is available. Available and maybe even willing.
When I was out and about and looking for lovers, where was Margot
then?

Instead, I had Becky. Not that Becky was so bad. In fact, Becky
could be great, when Becky needed to be. She had been a little
moody lately - the baby scare had put her in a pensive frame of
mind. Becky was at her best when Becky wasn't thinking. When she
got up on her toes, threw back her shoulders, and bumped into the
world with her chest out. When she laughed without a second
thought, loud and robust. When she danced with that swinging
motion of hers, hips and shoulders turning with the beat. When we
were in bed naked and she got big open eyes, and she thrust her
jaw out and pulled my dick. And when I rolled on top of her and
her thighs strained apart, opening herself up so far you'd think
she'd tear herself in two.

I loved my foul-mouthed Becky, the one who sang along with songs
on the radio, replacing every instance of the word "love" with
the word "fuck" and laughing when the song still made awkward
sense.

"Let's make fuck," Becky would say when Becky was horny.

_That_ is the Becky I would love to have babies with.

But for the past two weeks, I had only known a Becky who sat on
the couch in her bathrobe, sometimes in her apartment, sometimes
at my house, reading women's magazines and casting accusatory
glances.

Margot returned with a glass of white wine and set it in front of
me. "Can I get you anything else?" Margot asked. I loved the tone
of Margot's voice, low and feminine, spoken from the diaphragm.
No more blushing, either. Margot had composed herself while she
was gone. She rested a slender left hand on the crest of her
pelvis.

Could she get me anything else!

"No, thank you," I said.

Margot smiled and left.

I sighed. I opened my paperback book and began to read.

I had only read a few sentences before I caught a glimpse in my
peripheral vision, just over the top edge of my book. A leg, a
feminine leg. I let my eyes drift upward, and took in a curvy
calf all wrapped up in dark hose. And a lovely knee. And slender
feet in shiny black pumps. One leg draped over the other, the top
foot bouncing up and down to the rhythm of some silent song.

Women! They were everywhere I looked!

I tried to go back to my book, but didn't read two sentences
before my mind formed an image of naked legs. I let my eyes rise
up.

She sat two tables over, chin in palm. She wore a knee-length red
skirt and a red jacket over a white blouse. She was slim, and
tall for a woman. Her hair was brown and pinned up. I watched as
she removed her glasses, folded them, unfolded them. She stroked
the earpiece lightly across her upper lip. Her eyes unfocussed.
Then she sat up straight and set her glasses on the table. She
put her chin back in her palm and tapped the table with flaming
red fingernails.

All the while her foot bounced up and down, up and down.

Then I saw her brown eyes turn my way, first a glance, and then
she turned and looked right at me. For whatever reason, I didn't
look away, I just stayed steady, and she squared her shoulders
around. Her eyes narrowed for just a moment, the crinkles
gathering in the corners, her lips pressing. But then her face
softened, and her lips twitched. She uncrossed her legs, and I
watched transfixed as she slowly re-crossed them. The agonizing
rub of leg against leg. She smoothed her skirt back down. Her
right knee, now on top, was just as lovely as the left. I looked
her in the eye, her dark brown eyes, and she pursed her lips and
made a quick kiss in the air.

I dropped my eyes like a schoolboy who didn't know the answer to
the teacher's question. My face burned.

Oh, but did I have wild thoughts! The bachelor thing to do would
be to meet her gaze, just like good old Margot had done with me.
But then Margot could afford it. Margot wasn't meeting Becky for
lunch in half an hour.

The woman stood up, and I almost fainted dead away.

But she was greeting someone, not standing up to talk to me. "Hi,
dear," she said. A man in khaki slacks and a green golf shirt
walked up. She gave him a big, all-body hug. Her hands moved up
and down his broad back. She looked over his shoulder at me and
winked.

They separated and sat, and I breathed a sigh. I settled back
down to read my book.

But bits and pieces of their conversation kept wiggling their way
into my ears. Just as I seemed to get back into my story, I'd
catch a word or two.

"How's the wine?" he said. "I'm taking the rest of the afternoon
off," she said. "I have to take the car in tomorrow. Can you pick
me up?" he said. "We should fix him up with Millie don't you
think?" she said.

I scanned the page of my book, looking for where I had left off.
I couldn't seem to find my place.

The restaurant was suddenly as quiet as a deserted back alley.

"I am so fucking horny," she said.

And just then Becky bustled in. "I'm sorry I'm late!" Her purse
thumped on the table, and she ran her hands back through her dark
hair. "Traffic was a disaster. It's raining, you know. I am _so_
sorry I'm late."

I stood and we kissed, just a peck on the lips, and we slumped
down into our chairs. Becky was her usual pretty self, a little
disheveled and a little out of breath. She wore a casual dress, a
light, flowery thing with a bit of a neckline and the round of
her shoulders bare. If Becky were her old self, Becky would be
bra-less underneath. As it was, I had to wonder. Becky opened a
menu.

Becky read the menu, and I spied on the other couple. They ate
their salads and grinned at one another. Long gazes into each
other's eyes. They seemed smitten.

When she picked a cherry tomato up off her plate, I remember
thinking, what would Emily Post think of that? And when she
licked it, I was sure Emily would have huffed! But when she
pressed it against _his_ mouth, against his pursed lips, I was
glad for Ms. Post that she was already dead!

She pressed the tomato against his mouth, he formed an "O" with
his lips, and she used her thumb to force it through. He closed
his mouth down, and his eyes slitted and his lips strained to
stop from smiling. He bit down, and a little drip of tomato
spilled out.

"You're leaking," she said and she grabbed her napkin and went to
his mouth with it. He held still while she licked the napkin's
corner and dabbed. She used short, slow strokes across his lips.

He stopped smiling. She dabbed his lips for a long time, long
after all the tomato juice was gone. And then she simply dropped
the napkin, and her fingers went right back onto his mouth.

She used her thumb and fingertips on his lips, back and forth, up
and down, tracing the upper lip. He sat there and stared into her
eyes.

And then he nipped at her fingertip, lightly with white teeth,
and they laughed. She pulled her hand away from his face, and
they laughed again. They went back to their food.

"What are you looking at?" Becky breathed.

"Did you see them?"

"Of course I saw them! But why are you looking?"

The man took a slice of cucumber and held it up. The woman
giggled, a girl's giggle, and he folded the slice over, held it
to her mouth, and used his index finger to push it in.

He pushed the cucumber in, but he didn't take his finger back
out. She sucked on his fingertip, her lips tight around it,
holding it in her mouth. And then a quick open and close, and his
entire finger was in, knuckle deep.

He drew his finger out slowly, pulling out from between her lips,
and when it was almost completely out, she opened up and let him
go. She laughed.

She looked over at Becky and me, and she laughed again.

The man twisted around so he could see where his partner was
looking, just a quick glance. He leaned and whispered something
in her ear. The woman listened and looked at us and smiled.

I glanced at Becky, and her teeth were set, staring wide-eyed at
the show.

The couple leaned together and kissed. And then they kissed
again. And again. And then a short, hard kiss, so hard I thought
they'd bruise their lips. They looked at one another for a
moment, then her hand grabbed the back of his head and pulled him
back and they kissed again. They attacked each other with their
mouths, and their bodies surged together. Her butt slid clear off
her chair until she was almost in his lap. He gripped her hips.
Her skirt rode up the backs of her legs.

When her stocking tops showed beneath the hem of her skirt, my
penis stirred. When his hand slipped between her thighs, Becky
gasped.

He hiked her skirt up past her hips, exposing the broad expanse
of naked flank and a black garter strap.

"They should get a room," Becky whispered.

I was mildly miffed. I turned to say something to her, but as
soon as I saw Becky's face, I stopped. Becky's lips were moist
and parted. Her eyes were wide and bright and darted about, as if
she couldn't decide what exactly to look at.

I looked back, and the woman was looking right at us, staring
right at Becky and me, as she clung to the man's shoulders, while
he nibbled on her slim neck, his hand over her breast. Her legs
pulled apart, her skirt slipped right up to her waist.

And there she was. She wasn't wearing panties. Thick, dark hair
between her legs, and dark fleshy lips.

She looked right at us, breathing hard, took the man's hand, and
placed it over her sex. She held his hand there, her hand over
his, and fingers and palms began to undulate. She looked at us
and breathed deeply through her open mouth. He kissed her neck
and she rocked her head back and moaned.

And then they pulled apart. Stopped right in the middle of it
all. She sat back down in her chair, he picked up his fork. They
panted loud enough for us to hear. She tried to yank her skirt
back down, but was not completely successful - I could still see
her stocking tops.

For a moment, they picked at their salads. He put his free hand
on top of the table, and she put hers on top of his. Her right
hand on top of his left, her long, slender fingers stroking his.
Gentle strokes up and down his fingers, to the knuckle, then up
on the back of his hand.

He rolled his hand over and they grabbed hands. The heels of
their palms rubbed together. Their thumbs wandered against each
other. They ungrasped long enough to rub flat hand against flat
hand. Fingers slipped between fingers, lingering into the gaps
between.

They stopped eating again, and forks fell to plates. She reached
across and grabbed right between his legs.

He shot to his feet, fumbling with his wallet, and threw three
twenties on the table. His penis strained against his pants. She
stood up after him, wobbling on her heels; she had to hold onto
the table to catch her balance. She awkwardly pulled her dress
down and rearranged her jacket.

They dashed away, his hand on the back of her neck; she grabbed
his ass, low and nearly between his legs.

Becky and I sat in stunned silence.

"Wow," I said.

"_That_ was something," Becky said.

My penis was stiff. I shifted, trying to get a more comfortable
position.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Becky said.

She grabbed her purse and shuffled away. Leaving me alone.

I sat and wondered what to do. I was too excited. I loved that
the woman stared right at us as she opened her legs. The image of
their hands together on her pussy wouldn't leave my mind.

While Becky was gone, Margot returned. "Is everything okay?"
Margot asked.

"Um, yes." I shifted in my chair, hoping to hide my erection.

"Did those folks leave already?"

"Yes, I think so."

"They didn't wait for their food."

I couldn't make my erection go away, and I hoped Margot wouldn't
notice. "They looked like they were in a hurry."

"Is that your wife in the ladies room?" Margot asked.

"Becky? Well, she's not my wife."

"Engaged?"

"Thinking about it."

"She's pretty," and Margot smiled. "You're a lucky guy," she
said.

Lucky guy? "What?"

"Wait and see," she said. I thought I saw her glance in my lap.

I blinked. Wait and see?

"Are you ready to order?"

"Um, no. I don't think so."

"No hurry, the place is dead today. Take your time."

Margot left.

And Becky returned striding with a purpose, her hair slicked back
and in place, freshly lipsticked and smiling wide. She held her
arms straight out like airplane wings, swinging her purse in one
hand. "Do you want to dance?" she called out, loud enough for the
entire restaurant to hear.

"I don't think they dance here," I said quietly.

"Don't be silly." She stood beside the table and dropped her
purse in front of me. "Hey, look here." Becky opened her purse
and tilted it towards me.

Her pantyhose and panties were stuffed in there!

"I'm feeling frisss-ky," Becky said. "And the frisky girl thinks
we should dance."

She left her open purse on the table, grabbed my hand, and pulled
me forward. I looked quickly around the restaurant. Margot at the
front desk, and another couple in the front corner table.
Otherwise, the place was empty.

We found a gap between the tables and Becky slipped into my arms.
I put my hand on her back, and felt the heat of her. And then it
finally hit me: Becky was naked under her dress! Naked!

Becky hummed a slow lilting tune, just off the top of her head,
and trilled nonsense syllables.

"Do you think we'll be like that, when we've been together
longer?" Becky said.

"I don't know." I picked up the rhythm of her tune, hummed along,
and Becky leaned into me, rested her head on my shoulder, and I
brushed my cheek through her soft hair.

But I could barely concentrate to keep humming along. The thought
that Becky was naked under her dress was making me manic! No bra,
no panties, no nothing! Just naked Becky. I reached down and
cupped her buns through her dress.

She tilted her head up. "Don't get fresh, buster!"

"I want the world to know I love you."

Becky guffawed and pulled away, spun around, clear around once,
the hem of her dress fluttering up, and she swung right back into
me, bumping hard, knee to knee, hip to hip. "You don't fool
anyone," she said. "You want the world to know you fuck me."

I had my old Becky back! I pressed my mouth close to her ear. I
breathed, let her hear and feel my breath. "Admit it. You want
the world to know you fuck me too."

I began to pull her dress up. "What do you think you're doing?"
Becky said. She stepped up very close and slipped her crotch up
onto my thigh. I held her tight around the waist. It felt like if
I would let go, she'd tumble over backwards.

"I'm going to show these people over here your butt."

"You are, are you?"

In fact, the restaurant was empty behind her, but I pulled her
dress up anyway. She arched hard against me, her head dropped
back, her wide eyes flitted back and forth. I put my hands on
Becky's bare bottom. She was so soft and so warm.

She giggled. "I think that's enough." And she pulled away and
looked at the empty tables behind us. "Hey! Where is everybody!"

"Let's get out of here," I said.

"Next time you say you're going to show somebody my butt, you'd
better show somebody my butt!"

She stepped away and grabbed the hem of her dress. She spun
around and lifted her dress up high. I caught a momentary glance
of her dark bushy pubes. As, I'm sure, did everyone in the
restaurant.

Both of them. And Margot.

Becky dropped her dress and laughed. "Don't look!" she called out
to the other patrons.

Becky pressed up close again and she put her hand on my penis.
"Did you know your dick is hard?"

"Uh huh."

"Extremely hard."

"I know."

"I think I may just unzip you, right here," she whispered.

"If we don't end up in jail, you're going to be a very happy girl
tonight."

"If you think I'm waiting until tonight, you have another think
coming!"

"Then we'd better hurry up, don't you think?"

"Yes, I think we'd better," Becky said.

We gathered up our things. Margot was waiting for us at the
reservation desk. "Sorry," I said, "we need to leave."

"Y'all are making the cook mad," Margot smiled. Margot talked
faster than before, and her accent was more pronounced. "Nobody's
staying for the food!"

"I'm sure it's great food," Becky said.

"I must say, there hasn't been much in the way of business, but
it sure has been a fun day!" Margot said.

"What do we owe you?"

Margot laughed. "All you had was a glass of wine. Those other
folks left a thirty-dollar tip! It's on me!"

We thanked her and Becky and I held hands and strode out towards
the door. "By the by," Margot called out. We stopped and turned
back. She took a few steps forward and continued in a lower
voice. "When I'm in bed tonight? I'll be thinking about y'all."
She held up her bare left hand and wiggled her fingers. "Me an'
my latest lover boy here."

Becky and I laughed, a little red-faced. We said good-bye to
Margot and promised to eat at Gino's again. We went outside.

It was still gray and overcast, but the rain had stopped for a
moment. The air felt cool and clean. I walked Becky to her car
and she got in. She rolled down her window. "I'll see you in ten
minutes," Becky said. I looked in the window and her dress was up
around her hips. Another inch higher and I could see Becky's
treasures!

Ten minutes? It sounded like nine minutes too long!

We drove to my house, Becky in the lead, me behind. She parked
her car and jumped out, bouncing back and forth on the sidewalk.
I got out of my car and Becky took off running. The rain began to
fall again. Becky's dress flipped up as she ran, I ran after her,
watching the backs of her legs and her lovely bottom bouncing
under her dress.

The rain pattered as we reached my backyard. The grass was long
and green and thick and smelled earthy. Becky backed away,
grinning widely. "Come and get me," she said. The rain fell
harder.

I pulled off my shirt. Cold raindrops fell on my shoulders. Becky
unzipped and shrugged out of her dress, and she stood there
wearing nothing but her shoes. I yearned for the thick black hair
between her legs. Her little dark nipples were pointed.

The rain fell harder and noisier. I kicked off my shoes and threw
down my pants. My cock was already up and hard. We stood facing
each other for a moment, like two wrestlers before a match.

And then she ran right at me, her arms swinging and her hair
flying. She laughed and jumped right into me, I grabbed her and
spun her to the side, she laughed, her wet skin rubbed against
me, and I wrapped my arms around her. She squirmed and twisted
and finally she was securely in my arms, looking me in the eyes.
My erection was pinned against her belly.

We held each other and kissed, and the rain fell. She grabbed my
butt and squeezed. I ran my hands up and down her sides, up under
her arms, and ran my thumbs across the sides of her breasts. We
kissed and Becky whimpered in my mouth.

"Get down here," Becky said, and she dropped to her knees and
grabbed my cock. "Come on, get down here."

I was penis-pulled into a supine position. The grass was soft and
wet and cold on my back. She kneeled between my legs and held my
erection up. "Yum," she said, and she put her mouth over the
head. Her tongue pressed against my glans, and she gave me a
light suck.

She tickled the underside with the tip of her tongue. "You like
this?" she said, and she tickled some more. "Why, I do believe
you like this!"

My heart raced. "Stop, Jesus," I said. I tried to pull away but
she held on tight. Her tongue flicked all along the bottom of my
glans.

I couldn't hold back. I boiled over, semen spurted. "Oops!" Becky
said, and she laughed. She stroked my throbbing cock while I
spilled all over my belly.

She slid up and kissed me. "Don't think you're off the hook yet,
big boy," she said. I felt dizzy.

She slung her arm and leg across me and pressed up close. She
kissed me and nibbled on my lips and my head cleared, I was soon
back in the swing of things, I kissed her, tried to suck on her
lips, ran my tongue up the inside of her upper lip. Becky hummed
and squeezed my chest. I ran my fingertips down to her ass.

I came around between her thighs and found her soft hole, worked
my ring finger in. She was oily and warm, and her legs wiggled up
against me.

"I wonder what we can do while we wait?" She gave my limp prick a
playful yank.

"Your turn in the wet grass, I think," I said.

"Sounds like it could be unpleasant."

"It's not so bad."

"We'd better hurry before the neighbors get home."

"Oh, I think you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Becky lowered herself down into the grass and gasped, nearly
jerked back up, but settled slowly down. "Jesus, it's cold," she
said.

I put my hand over her pussy, felt her soft hair in my palm,
stroked my fingertips across her soft skin, felt her soft heat.
"Not feeling too cold to me, Becky."

"Just hurry up, while I'm still in the mood," she said. She
laughed. "_I'm in the mood_," she sang, "_I'm in the mood for
some of your fuck_." She laughed again.

I tickled the backs of her thighs and she lifted her knees up and
apart. I got down between Becky's legs. I held a leg in each arm
and alternated kisses from thigh to thigh. Becky squirmed in my
arms.

I combed Becky's dark pubic hair with my fingers. I loved to play
with Becky's pubes, the curly soft hair, brushing it this way and
that, swirling it around my fingertips, and tugging gently. Becky
bloomed, her scarlet opening peeking out between swollen lips.

I pointed my tongue and ran it through her silky folds. She
stroked the sides of my face with her fingertips. I curled my
tongue up and over her clitoris, flicked it a little, and pressed
the flat of my tongue down on top.

I blanketed her clitoris with my tongue. Rain water pooled in her
bellybutton, drops covered her whole naked body. She shivered and
I ran my tongue back and forth over Becky's clit. Becky likes it
slow, and slow is how I went. I found I could control her
respiration. She would breathe sharply every time I moved my
tongue upwards. Slow long swipes, over and over again:

Lap, breathe.

Over and over again, long, languorous, upward, full-tongue licks.

Lap, breathe.

Lap, breathe.

Lap, breathe.

Lap, whimper.

Lap, moan.

Lap ...

And Becky cried out.

I gave her a couple final licks and looked up. Becky's face and
chest were flushed red.

My dick was stiff again. I crawled up between Becky's legs and
she spread her thighs wide.

She was rained on all over, wet, her skin taut, her nipples
tight. Her breathing was fast and shallow. "Fuck me," Becky said.

I pressed my prick against her vagina.

"Fuck me," she said.

I pushed and Becky's pussy yielded. She shimmied into position,
and I pressed the rest of the way in. She was so warm.

"Fuck me, fuck me."

The cold rain fell on my back, her heels hooked around the back
of my legs, she hugged me close, drew me down until I was on my
elbows, her whole body touching up against me, from shoulder to
breast to belly to hips. We rocked against each other, we kissed,
I sucked her ears, and Becky squeezed me tighter.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Becky sang, and her tongue flicked
my ear. I clung closer to her warm body, while the rain cooled my
back. I rocked back and forth.

"Fuck me," she breathed, and her hands went up and down my back.

"Fuck me," she said, and she grunted from deep in her diaphragm.

"Ah, ... love me," and Becky's voice trailed off.

My beautiful Becky. I rocked and rocked and felt Becky's warm
body against me. The rain fell, and I covered her, kept the rain
off her.

Becky nuzzled into my neck and opened her hands against my sides.
I soared, I froze, I pulsed, and I emptied inside her.

I looked at Becky's sweet face, and her eyes fluttered open. We
kissed softly. Becky's eyes were wide and moist.

My penis slipped out. The rain pattered all over me. I slid to
the side. Becky's skin went to goose bumps. Becky shivered.

"Are you cold?" I said.

"No, I'm fine."

"Let's go inside."

"No. Let's lie here a minute."

Her nipples were hard, her skin wet. The rain let up to just a
drizzle. I kissed her nipple, lipping it and flipping with my
tongue. She ran her fingers through my damp hair. I looked up at
her. Becky's eyes pooled up. "I'm sorry I haven't been much fun
lately," Becky said.

I kissed Becky's bare belly, and I pressed my ear against her
tummy, and I listened. I was surprised. I heard something I had
not noticed before. How could I have missed it?

I lifted my head, looked into Becky's big eyes. How could I have
been such a fool?

I held her hand and put my ear back down on her soft belly.
"Becky," I said, my mind full of wonder, "I can hear your heart."

Becky cried.




Comments? Good or bad, I'd love to hear them. Email me at
poisoniv1@hotmail.com. Or you can find more stories like this on
my website, http://bounce.to/poisoniv1.

Becky Cried
By Poison Ivan

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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