Reaching down He roughly grasped her hips turning her so her ass now faced Him, His hands softly running over the soft cheeks before rising and slammi...g down hard. That sweet sound of hand connecting with her soft flesh, the sound of her gasp of shock watching as she shivered as the pleasure ran up her spine. His hand came down hard against her soft peach of an ass again and again, her eyes filling with tears that began to spill down her cheeks as her body withered in ecstasy. Her little legs. ‘He said they were from Ben Sheppard. Anyway, what’s the card say?’ The card. Oh, yes, the card. I find it in the stems, pull it out and open it. It read: ‘With apologizes for cancelling our date. – Ben Sheppard’ It’s written in his hand—an elegant and precise hand—in the same blue ink from the same crisp, fine point pen he used on his business card. ‘So who is Ben Sheppard?’ Danielle asks. ‘I have no idea,’ I say. I have no idea but all the doubts I’ve been carrying around about going to. More

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