As he drove hard with twisting my soft lips in and out, he was mumbling heavy curses to me to stroke his sacks. My chin was tucked between my tits, the skin of my stomach folded and overlapped like a towel. He got off the bed, picked up his clothes and walked out of the room with my dad, who had been silently watching the whole thing until that moment. Whereas tonight he could have speared me with it goodly. He deprived an eager girl of the feeling of being stuffed. And still, like the horns of a willful goat, he kept pounding away at the same target. A thin stream oozed from my fount, laking in my puckered little hole. I was like a desperate castaway clapping her hands in panic to not drown in the sea. When he touched my ankle lightly, I continued my fake sleep.
