Anderson probed at Sara's asshole with a pudgy finger. "And such tight little brownie too," Mrs. Anderson said."Ugh - oh God - th- thank y-you." Sara'... mind whirled. The finger poking at her rear hole made her quiver with excitement, yet she knew she shouldn't be feeling that way."Does Frank fuck you there?" Mrs. Anderson asked. "I bet you love it up the ass. Slut." No - no he doesn't," Sara stammered. She wasn't that kind of girl. And Frank wasn't the kind of guy."But you love it. You love it. Call me when you're done?"I spent another hour adjusting those three elements, finally ending up with something that I was proud to call my own. With a feeling of real enthusiasm and pride, I printed off the final result, and started to head for my uncle's office. At the last minute, I remembered what Jose had drilled into my head, saved the image, then closed the file on the computer. And once I had the printed copy in my hands, I even signed it, just like I'd been told to do."Uncle Barry?" I. More

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