My breath hitched and I moaned. “You like that baby?” he asked as he thrust forward again. My legs moved up and locked around his ass. “Mmmmmm, ... guess you do!” “Don’t tease me Derek.” “Never… my love.” He thrust forward again, harder, his cock sliding over and over, again and again on my clit. Every thrust brought a moan. “Derek… oh my God baby… Derek… I… I…” “Yes baby, give it to me. Come on.” He leaned over, as he thrust, and bit my neck. I screamed, my legs tight around his ass, my nails. I’m crying too much. When she was six, the Fairy Girl (as her father affectionately called her) lost her daddy. He fell down two flights of stairs in their home after suffering a mild stroke and broke several ribs. He may have lived, but his wife had passed out drunk at the kitchen table. Fairy Girl found him first when she came inside, covered in a thick winter coat and a light sprinkling of snowflakes. The thing Glinda remembered most these days wasn’t the awkward way he was sprawled out on. More

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