It’s shorter, gutting, but…I’ll leave it at that. It takes less time. That was why I chose it. My father was shot in the back of the head by my ...unt Sarah, his sister. I was sixteen. A year earlier I’d gotten pregnant by my first boyfriend, Philip O’Neill (Flip) and had it taken care of by a doctor two hours from home in the panhandle. Dad gave me the money, told my brother to get us back quickly but safely, kissed me, and walked into the house. He’d already beaten the shit out of Philip. When. He leaves. Your other arm wraps around me under the bar, pulling me tighter against you, lifting me so my feet are barely touching the support. I feel your lips against the back of my neck and your thrusting speeds up a little, deepening each time. Your breathing is heavy, hot against my neck. I can feel your groans through your lips against my skin. Shivers are running though my body, my hips meeting your thrusts..."So good, babe" I hear you say, grinding on me, deeper into me...your jeans. More

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