“He had a van. We’d drive down to the coast, park on the bluff above the beach, get in the back and fuck.”“You’ve never let me take pictures...of you … like this.”“No, I know. It’s…” She hesitated, sighed again, and said, “Sorta traumatic. He talked about the stuff we did … sexually. He showed his friends the photos. I couldn’t figure out why they’d all got so creepy - leering at me, making lewd comments and stuff. Someone told me eventually. I forget who. I confronted him, my boyfriend. We. I was trying to tease as much as could without being too obvious. I still wanted it to be their idea. When I was down to nothing but my thong and bra the driver offered to lay my clothes on the dash heater to help them dry a bit more. After a cup of coffee and no moves from the drivers I decided to start things myself. I saw a sticker on the glove box in the dash that read, “Gas, Grass or Ass, Nobody rides for free”. “Oh my,” I said. “Does this count as a ride?” I asked as I pointed to the. More

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