“Sure would hate for dad togo through my laptop. I don’t know what he would think.” I pulled away. “I knew you were going to u...e that as blackmail! Ijust knew it!” Randy smiled. “I like to think of it as a little push inthe right direction.” I was so frustrated with him. “I have to go getdinner ready. Please don’t bother me.” We sat at the dinner table insilence. Randy broke the silence. “So, what about Saturday night? I. "Please," sobbing, you plead, "Stop," as hot tears spilling across your cheeks, soaking into the mattress. "Stop, stop, stop," you persist in pleading, "Please, please, please stop." He does not stop, although he slows his movements, keeping them just as hard, lengthening the intervals between his knuckles, curled thumb, and other fingers slamming against your outer labium lips. They, by now, are all coated with your own reviled wetness. Tugging his hand from your snatch causes you to. More

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