He smiled as he watched some of his issue dribble from her bruisedsphincter."There you cow! How's that for slap and tickle," he cackled as he hikedup...his stained Y-fronts.Michele lay on the bed exhausted; she was panting with exertion. She wasalso weeping; not so much because of the pain but because of thehumiliation.She heard Bill clattering around in the lounge room then she heard hisfootsteps approaching and she began to tremble, hoping he wasn't going toviolate her again."I'll let myself. Now, I know, helping a friend move isn't a bad thing, but it was what happened after that was, well, so to speak. My friend had a nice neighbor, a widowed father with three boys: Bobby – 20, Dawson – 18, and Elliot – 12. Now, Bobby was okay, Elliot was cute, but it was Dawson who for whatever reason caught my eye. Now, I know, you're thinking the author of this is a woman in her twenties or thirties at best. Well, my dear reader, you'd be partly mistaken. The author of this tale will admit to. More

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