‘I want to know if my husband’s been screwing the Barclay woman. I want to know how much of a slut my daughter is. I want to know if that old trol... who runs this place is going to rape me sometime when I’m not looking.’ I put my hand on her shoulder. ‘That will cost a lot. I’ll give you an free appetizer: Edward Barclay probably couldn’t get it up if he wanted to. He’s always hungover in the morning and drunk by lunchtime. His talk is all bluster: he likes pushin’ your buttons. Like I said. Soon we find ourselves alone in the locker room. He's so sexy standing there in his uniform and as much as I love it all I can think about is how much I want to divest him of it. Suddenly before I can react he pounces on me. Thrusting me hard up against the lockers hands arm and hands above my head. Kissing me he runs his hands from my neck down to my breasts. Cupping them over my taught short little dress. My breath hitches in pleasure and he moves one hand lower and lower. It's a slow torture. More

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