Suddenly, her apartment was filled with the throbbing sounds of Slut Slammer and the Jay Birds — brutal, primitive, violent. There was little she wa... ashamed of — certainly not her hyper-sexuality — but her taste in music sometimes embarrassed her.She stepped in front of the full-length mirror and began a slow, sensual dance. Slammer was singing, growling really, about what he was going to do to his bitch, how he was going to beat her, humiliate her, make her beg for mercy. Samantha looked at. "What do you think you were doing?!" I just wanted to see what it felt like having big boobs!" she replied,innocently. "I didn't think you'd mind that much. Even you have to admityou have a great rack." She gestured at my bare chest, and I blushed,scrambling to find the clothes Sarah had thrown around the room."You should have asked first," I grumbled, putting my bra back on."Oh come on! I could tell you enjoyed it!" she chucked. "I certainlydid." About that! I don't appreciate somebody else. More

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