”A short series of frames flashes in my mind’s eye. Hands my imagination kept associating with burly briny fishermen, pulling Sally-Ann’s lamb-w...ite cotton panties down her legs, or more like yanking my Sally-Ann’s white cotton panties, and even though the burly hands had yanked my Sally-Ann’s panties down her legs just once, I saw it as a loop, a repetitive piercing moment those burly hands yanked my helpless Sally-Ann’s panties down her legs. Maybe because I had no other choice then but go. ‘Oh, Jesus,’ she said to herself. He began again by rubbing her temples. Then he applied more oil to his hands and began working her shoulders and pectorals. All the while she stared up into his horrific face. She nearly died when he said, “I saw you at the show last night with Mr. Calmetti. Did you like the show?” His hands slid to her sides, at her sweet spot at the edge of the swell of her breast. “Did you like my cock?” he rasped. She tensed as his hands swept across her ample breasts. . More

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