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She looked at Hua in shock, seeing her as an exact double of Mark, then back to Mark, then Hua, then Mark again, like someone sitting at the center line at Wimbledon."Huh? How'd you copy yourself?" she asked."That's for me to know, and for you to just enjoy the results of." Hua said, leaning over and kissing her tenderly. Mark kissed her as well."This is so confusing." Shh, just relax, and enjoy." Mark said, and helped her out of the bed. He put a box in the seat of her chair, and put a pillow on top of that, at just the right height for her to lean over it. At Mark's direction, Hua moved to one side, while Mark bent Sierra over the other, putting her face in line with Hua's strap-on. Sierra needed little prompting, taking the false phallus into her mouth and sucking with relish. Mark slid his very real tool into Sierra's dripping slit from behind."Mmm, yeah, just like that." Hua said encouragingly, though of course the strap-on conveyed no sensation. Sierra moaned as Mark worked his. Chicken or rabbit – sometimes chicken and rabbit. One day the rabbits were gone. We were twelve then and Dad was away for several months. I knew how to trap rabbits and found out they were just as damn dumb as chickens. We ate rabbits and stuff from the garden grown wild, planted by Mom, cared for by God. Dad came back, gaunt, bearded, scars on his legs from shackles he said. Did Dad take care of us? We took care of Dad. We did love him and in his way, his very own way, we think he loved us. We knew, somehow, he loved Mom and died, slowly, without her. He loved us but we were not Mom. We had a milk cow and from age six I milked. The milk probably saved our lives. When Bessie died we were thirteen. I walked ten miles to the Aaronson farm and in the dark of the night stole one of their hundreds of milk cows. We named her Bessie – we thought all milk cows were named Bessie. ‘Cindy! Don’t ever, don’t ever let Bessie out in the daytime.’ I thought all cows looked the same but I didn’t.
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