Bussing meant going back home. Home meant dealing with Harold. Harold meant living a lie. Dread and shame overawed me. Harold was a tyrant and togethe... we had faked being a normal family for years. He betrayed my mother and blamed her for abandoning me. Unwittingly, I’d enabled him. I couldn’t do it anymore. My flesh crawled, even my clothes chaffed, just thinking about acting like nice old Bell for that man. That Bell was a sham, a fake.“Her clothes make me sick,” I said, when I got in Curly’s. It didn't take many strokes with my lips and tongue for that final load to be firmly shot down my waiting throat.Needless to say, I was just beginning. Luckily for my knees and probably thankfully for the waitress, the guys helped me up, got me to the door of the ladies room and handed me my clothes so I could get cleaned up and dressed. Two of them had to leave but the other five waited for me and took me to a room in the hotel where I was able to enjoy as much sex as a girl could want from 5. More

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