. please?"She nodded, slowly. "Jeanne ... the reason I was where I was," she swallowed and blinked hard, "I ran away from my foster parents as soon as...I was sixteen. My social worker didn't, or wouldn't, believe they were ... having sex with me. I hated it, but I ... was turned on ... and I hated that. I dressed down, pretended I didn't have a body. Pretended I didn't like sex. I don't ... I feel dirty, but Malcolm ... treated me like I mattered. Even when I told him..." she trailed off.Jeanne. Please … now,’ she implored. I sat back and grabbed the panties on either side and eased them over her curvy hips and down to her thighs in one motion. I pulled them over her knees and feet and tossed them on the floor without looking. She lay there on her back looking at me breathing fast in the dimming sunlight her blonde hair in total disarray and her face flushed with a streak or two of sweat running down. For a second I wasn’t sure what I should do next but she smiled at me then shut her. More

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