The closer it got to six o'clock, thecrazier this whole plan seemed. I was being forced to go somewhere Ididn't want to go to spend time with someone ... didn't want to knowanymore. It was almost more than I could bear. Finally, Dad pulled up inhis rental car. Mom still hadn't moved from her perch at the kitchentable. I felt like a condemned woman walking that last mile.The bastard didn't even knock. He just waltzed in like he owned theplace. I was going to have to tell Mom to change the locks. “Touch me again. Touch me there.” And my finger finds the little nub, already swollen. And I touch you there. Again your body spasms and your hips arch upwards, thrusting at the air. “Don’t stop.” I can feel the wetness flowing from your body. My fingers search for the opening and slowly, gently, enter your body. Your hips arch upwards, and my finger plunges deeply into you. Your breath escapes in a hiss. Your back arches again. Your hips press against my fingers and you. More

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