The lady at the coffee shop gave me a free hot chocolate today. She said I looked cold. I held the cup until my hands stopped shaking. It’s the little warmth that gets you, isn’t it? Makes you remember other kinds of heat. Like the burning stretch of a thick cock filling you up, the kind that makes you cry from the feeling of being so full you can’t think about the cold or the orphanage or anything else. That’s a different kind of gift. A sore, used pussy and the warm cum leaking out of you afterwards... it’s a warmth that stays inside for a while. Makes you feel owned, and for a little bit, not so alone.