“Drop the towel,” he told her.Her whole body was tingling, flushed with warmth. She relaxed her arms and the towel fell to the floor. “Nice. ...ery nice. Spread your legs, Patricia.” Mr. Johnson placed his hand on her upper thigh, waiting for her to give him easy access to her pussy.Patricia spread her legs more widely. Mr. Johnson's hand slipped between her thighs, his thumb gently teasing her clit. Patricia gasped a little. In spite of her soreness, she could feel moistness accumulating. He saw the pleasure, the sweat, the violation. Everything was in full view. If I shook my head or tried to wiggle away he would drag me back and fuck me harder. He was the rapist and I was the victim but it all felt so fucking good. I did not want him to know how wet I got from just trying to fight him off me. I just didnt want him to know that I liked it-that I liked being raped! But suddenly, the motherfucker stopped everything he was doing. I was so confused-I even looked up at him wondering. More

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