Getting off on dominating the sexy stripper, Natasha recognized the irony of this situation. Did her own asshole stretch like that? Twitching, the red...ead felt phantom pain, remembering her own sordid anal encounters.Ignoring this, Natasha continued to get off on the sense of domination, crying out in pure joy as she continued her slow and gentle ass fucking. Vanessa clenched the pillow beneath her chest; it wasn't often she let a client take her this far. Nevertheless she had felt obligated to. And now when I thought of her, my heart ached. I felt she had to know about Rebecca’s death. Why? Because she was a friend now? I didn’t try to understand it. I had found her yellowing business card buried deep in my wallet. I couldn’t fathom calling her with this news. There was an email address. It seemed perfectly impersonal: just a quick update. I stopped thinking, hit Send, and went to bed. The following morning I got this reply: “I am so sorry. Be strong for your children. (I know you. More

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