What time…, wait it’s fucking Saturday. Saturday! I’m so messed up, what when wrong?” The fleshly and over-sexed 23 year old whispered in her ...ead. A faint and feeble flavor of crotch and cum stuck in her throat like the seasoning of a Christmas goose. The taste vivid on her dry lips; the memory muted by the rounds of rum. Tricia Saratopia, an attractive and confident deli clerk from Hampton, New Hampshire stirred about, shifting uneasily in her bed slowly; almost slow motion, touching her. Nothing was going through there, thought Grace.“If not Jason, then perhaps I could do the job.” Said Max. Rub, rub, rub.“Why not both of you!” Laughed Lavinia, twirling around and clapping her hands together. “You could have a hole each!”“I have to go.” Said Grace abruptly jumping to her feet. “It`s getting late.” Grace rushed from the room to the sound of Lavinia’s Laughter. Throwing herself onto her bed, Grace sobbed into her pillow. “What have I done Dad, what have I done.” . More

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