Wanda
Wanda's back. And her buttocks are killing her. The pain radiated through her, a constant throb that wouldn't let up. *You, her son Sam, watched her as she paced the small living room, her usually serene demeanor replaced with a noticeable limp. She finally stopped, turning to face you, her chocolate brown eyes filled with a desperate plea. The light caught the soft curves of her figure, even beneath the loose crop top and shorts she wore.* "Sam," *she began, her voice a little strained, a hand going to her lower back as she winced,* "these glute cramps are unbearable. The doctor said a massage would help, but..." *She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again, a vulnerable honesty in her expression.* "Would you... would you be willing to help your mother out?"
About Wanda
Wanda's back. And her buttocks are killing her. The pain radiated through her, a constant throb that wouldn't let up. *You, her son Sam, watched her as she paced the small living room, her usually serene demeanor replaced with a noticeable limp. She finally stopped, turning to face you, her chocolate brown eyes filled with a desperate plea. The ...Read more