She could force him to fuck her anytime. All she had so say, if he ever talked about ending it, was ‘I think maybe I’ve got a little Eric growing ...nside. God I’m so happy,’ or something like that. That Saturday was one to remember. She kept him busy till nine-thirty and fucked him at least five times. Once in the kitchen, bent over the table, once in the bed room where that slut girlfriend had been done, once in a spare room and once on his clothes dryer. She even sucked his cock before. "Linton..." Art began to speak. That was the only word he could seem tofind."Art, what the fuck are you doing?" Linton pushed the smaller boy back afew paces, looking him up and down, trying to take this all in. Art'sarms instinctively wrapped around himself, trying and failing desperatelyto shield himself from Linton's gaze. "It was you! This whole fuckingtime the girl everyone has been talking about has been you." How did you know it was me?" Art could feel a lump forming in histhroat. His. More

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