Hannah’s shrill voice would yelp in short breathless bursts in response to her father’s groans: “Fuck me, Frank! Fuck me, Frank! Fuck me like y...ur little bitch!” Clarissa would wriggle her fingertip inside her moist opening and rotate it in slow circles, drawing her knees up to her small chest and clenching her eyes and teeth shut. The headboard struck the wall with quickening pace and Clarissa worked her wetness in unison. Why can’t it be me? Why can’t it be me? Why can’t it be me? The. "I simply said, "Ellen calls me Sir," as I reclaimed my seat I continued, "you may call me Peter, not Pete, Petey or boy toy."Liz flushed, her nostrils flared and her pupils dilated. I also noticed that Ellen never once raised her eyes above the level of Liz's breasts, almost as if she were speaking to them instead of to the owner. The small smile on her face let me know that I had Liz's number and had put her in her place.While this exchange was going on I examined Liz a little closer. She had. More

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