.. nice when she's wearing... that?" Since I experienced puberty I understood some thingsthat always mystified me. They didn't fight anymore, but I...emembered some arguments that happened when I was small, Iremembered the shouting, and the tears, and the days of tensionafterwards. But most of all I remembered one thing: theargument didn't end until he said he was sorry, and said it theway she wanted to hear it. In the days afterwards he'd be afterher, desperately try to hold her, give her. I wanted to feel the heat of his skin against mine. He removed his clothing, and I pulled the strings of my bikini bottoms and hurriedly ripped them off; leaving us both completely naked. Holding me in position, he teased my cunt, driving me crazy. I was desperately moving my body, trying to get him to enter me. It got to the point that I had to beg. “Oh Fuck, please! Give it to me, I need it. Please!” He relented and roughly thrust his fingers in my soaking cunt. “Oh, fuck yes!” I felt his. More

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