Our dreams. Our freedom. Our reputation. Our health. Our lives. They want it all. And they’re going to take it. But only if we let them. The haters can wear deceptively familiar faces. My father is a sociopath. A man without conscience. Most people don’t know this about him. He’s tall, good-looking, preternaturally intelligent and extremely charming. He’s the director of the second largest airline in my country of origin. He’s got many sons and daughters by different women. He’s respected and. Suddenly, a brilliant idea occurred to her, and she liked it. A lot. “You are here to punish me for cheating on the both of you, aren’t you?” The two men nodded. “Not that I wouldn’t deserve what you have cooked up … I was just thinking … well, wouldn’t it be better if you had a willing participant?” “Huh?” Will blurted out. “I will be your sex slave for the evening. You can do whatever you want to me, and I will willingly do it. Not once will I complain or refuse.” The two men grinned, as they. Two silent screams erupted through my body - one from the gratefully tensing point of impact, the other from my hands, which had clenched tightly around the handle of the bat. The red light appeared again. Sixteen pitches left.I should explain that sixty-five miles per hour is about the fastest a softball pitch can get. It's the speed they pitch in the Olympics and the World Series. But since the pitcher's mound is also twenty (and a half) feet closer to home plate than in baseball, I actually. I didn't have us move too much because we were at a much more significant risk of falling in that position.I kept my hands on her stomach and didn't hold onto anything. I didn't want to restrain myself, so to speak, but get somewhere in the middle in terms of pleasuring. Even as her melons were shaking as well, I didn't glare at them either.I kept up the intimacy with her as well. Tribbing with her required my back to feel the pain, but I went with it too. I wanted to woo her beyond her wildest.
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