There it was! It was her wedding dress. It was the same one she wore -the same one I had touched on her body. She had been walking down thechurch aisl... in the very same dress not 24 hours earlier! It was thedress I should have worn as the bride I had dreamed of being for solong. I just felt it and admired it for a few minutes. I caressed it'ssoft femininity. Then I went to her bed to the other bag. I hoped mywishes were correct. I opened her smaller bag. And inside, there it was!It was her. I'm sad to think that those times may be the closest I ever get to having my dad inside me for real.By the way, I love my mom too. I'm not nearly as close to her as I am with my dad, but I think she's a great person and a great mom. I always assumed that she and my dad must have a great sex life. I mean, what woman in her right mind wouldn't want to get fucked by my dad every night and every day? I can't imagine.But, after overhearing a conversation a few days ago, I have a pretty good idea. After a moment, he knelt down to her and held her face in his hands, bringing her up slightly to look into his eyes. They shone from within, reflecting the light of the fire. She trembled in his grasp, knowing that the glow had to do with more than just a reflection.She feared him greatly, feared what he was doing to her, what he was turning her into. All she wanted was to be loved and cared for. She wanted someone who would cherish her and treat her with respect and dignity, listen to her. I was incredibly stiff and I ached all over. Finally after long minutes of trying I managed to crawl towards what my memory dimly told me was the altar area. My muscles and joints finally loosened enough to get on my hands and knees and fumble over stones. I found what I was looking for, a box of matches. Striking one, I looked around in the flaring light and spotted a torch that had not burned completely up. Memorizing its location, I walked there as the match went out. I caught it up and lit.
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