"Son, stop feeling guilty. No matter how much you want to do it, you can't protect Melody from everything. You can only do what you can do and nothing...more."I started to protest that I wasn't feeling guilty, but stopped myself. He was right. I was playing an if only game with myself. If only I had been in the store that day; if only I had called her and asked her to take the day off. I had a list that would have gone for pages had I taken the time to write them down.As always, after talking. Her butt was sore, her asshole was sore, her thighs were sore, her jaw was sore. She was exhausted. There was dried jism on her belly, on her breasts and chest, and on the upper parts of her stockings. She was pretty sure that her face was covered, too. One stocking had a run from her toe to her knee. She could feel a slimy discharge in her crotch. She couldn't see her shoes. Her bra, blouse, and skirt were neatly folded on the back of the chair where she deposited them.The door opened. More

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