“Hello, Sue. How are you…” “Were you watching me?” she erupted. Not in a harsh way, but direct. I stammered a moment and nodded. “Do you a...ways watch me?” I answered again with a nod, and she reached up and untied her top. Blue with white polka dots fell away, revealing tanned skin and pink nipples. They were hard and inviting. “Is this what you wanted to see?” she asked, a smile beginning to cross her face. Her eyes had moved down and noticed my throbbing cock underneath my pants. “Would like. It was like it was ... natural. When it was forced at least thenshe had freedom to hate the guards. When it wasn't forced, she could onlyhate herself. And why did she masturbate when she was giving oral?She felt a growing sense of hate. Impotent rage. Even for those whodidn't participate in the rapes. And the unforced ... whatever that was.She felt helpless.She found it profoundly disturbing when she climaxed during the rapes.Crying did not help. It only made it difficult to breathe when one. I can see why you married her,” she said while sawing her fingers in and out of my wife’s vagina roughly.In the couple of years since I’d last seen her, Cara had blossomed quite a bit, having developed curves and a decent sixteen-year-old rack. Her boldness had not changed one bit, however.Jess was panting and moaning at the same time. Heather pulled her sister’s fingers out of my wife and yelled, “Damn it, Cara, get out of here!”“Ok, ok I’m leaving,” she said. She turned to me and said “Have. It was on just such a Christmas Eve that I met Millie. The head nurse had suggested that I drop in on Millie, and then suddenly changed her mind, and advise me not to bother. Since I am always up to a challenge, Santa insisted that we visit her. Upon entering her room, Millie sat quietly in a tattered old yellow print dress while staring off into space. Somehow Santa knew that this was going to be a tough one, and called up his best, ‘Ho, Ho, Ho, and a Merry Christmas,’ only to find the focus.
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