He mauled her for some time – what felt like some time. Minute after minute ticking by, his knees forcing between her legs, his other hand forcing t...e skirt up her thighs. Her underwear was black panties and lace. His hand mauled there too whilst she sobbed and said it over and over “Please stop! I can't do this!” Her sobbing was loud and out of control, but it wouldn’t be loud enough to attract any outside attention. She was just too terrified of him to try and scream meaningfully for help,. Where as Lyle was a mountain lion, Desmond was a gazelle. He had sandy brown shoulder length hair on his head, and nowhere else. He had the discrete muscle tone of a swimmer, and small feet. If he were a woman, he would’ve been called willowy. He pushed his hair from his eyes and looked around at the dark windows of the house. “Where’s Mom and Dad?” Lyle hopped down the steps and called over his shoulder. “They went to see Uncle Howie. Something about a fight with him and Aunt Laurel.” Desmond. More

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