They saw her slobbering over some boy or girl in a weird car. The constant annoyance of hearing your neighbors talk about her… about how her father ...hould keep her on a tight leash, about how short her skirt was and how tight her top was.Frankly, it bugged you to see your daughter of eighteen years old walk out of the house like she was a common hooker. If you pulled up her skirt you could clearly see those prude white panties underneath. A way of pretending that she was someone she was not was. He held both of her firm looking breasts in his hand while he face fucked her, her legs open and her hand going to work on her clit.I then turned back to look at Mister Caine, who gave me a nod and walked through the door next to him.Without a second thought I walked across the bar and followed him through the door and into what must have been his office. The desk, the computer, the cabinets and the giant window overlooking the dance floor. It was a window."To the dancers, it's a mirror. To me,. More

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