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... my head. It was not Circe, no it was Althea’s cunt I had my fingers in.

I forced my mind to conjure up all that I wanted, her scent, her voice, the tenderness of her skin, the slight hesitance when the pleasure wanted to drown her. It was difficult because the bitch I married was like her.

Circe was greedy, she never yearned for me, her moans were guttural but soft, her body did not jolt as if stung. She was too...her.

How could they be sisters yet be so different?

< ...

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