The winter grew long, and the storms grew vicious and the skies blacker and the clouds the colour of treacle, and still she climbed the rocks, and still she threw the bottles. And time passed, with her sailor lost to her and the life and love that she knew she still had the capacity for slowly growing smaller and colder in her heart. One day, as spring approached and the rain cut horizontally through the air, she wearily made her way to the beach, as she did every day at low tide with her bottle in her hand. As she climbed her way across the rocks, barefoot, beautiful and unbearably sad, she noticed a tall ship in the bay and a small boat pulling towards the beach. She paused and watched it’s approach, feeling a tightness in her chest and a longing in her heart. She knew it couldn’t be her sailor, that she was imagining that it was the right shape, that it was the right hair colour, that it was the same movement in the shoulders. By the time she realised that it WAS her sailor, he. Deciding to go home she was thinking about her dildo and wished that she had brought it with her. she would just have to use her fingers while imagining her mother fucking Allan’s black cock. She stopped thinking about her mum having an affair but her cunt didn’t. Now she wanted to give it a little rub before she left but to her surprise she saw Allan and her mum driving out of the car park. Turning the keys she took off after them. She was nerves and excited as she stayed back in the traffic hoping not to be noticed. Again her mind turned to sex when Allan’s car drove out of the main town into a housing area that she knew of. “They aren’t going to work,” she convinced herself and she was right when they turned into the most expensive real estate in town. She pulled over and waited a bit knowing that she only had to drive around until she found Allan’s car. “Fuck,” she thought. “What if he parks in a garage? Fuck.” Picking up speed she was relieved to see Allan’s car parked in a.
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