It was nauseating. For him, the lipstick was strawberry, her breath milky, warm, wet, involving.Whilst kissing her, his large hand was becoming more f...antic at the front of her dress. Fingers dug into her flesh, squeezing, mauling, beginning with a demented eagerness to try and break the strap that held the breast's covering in place. The fabric was flimsy, it snapped easily and then it was the cup of her bra that was being forced upwards, her small swollen nipple exposed to the hand and. Resigned to failure, Melody left her desk at five defeated, and wallowedback underground to her room. It would be a sad existence that night,just sitting there. Maybe there would be something good on theTelevision.There was. It was a TV special on feminine grace and modesty. Many girlsand young women flocked across a stage, in long dresses and skirts,basically church wear, and many unpractically constrictive and confining.Melody had watched it for over three hours when Linda walked in."Good. More

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