My hands have long lost anything feminine about them, but I’m strangely content by that – these hands can craft dreams out of metal and stones. �...Hi baby,” he whispered in my ear as he rubbed my shoulder. “Productive night?” He’s stopped asking whether it was a long night long ago. Sometimes, for me, nights are never long enough. “Yes,” I mumbled back, and continued to enjoy his hands on my body. He lowered his head to kiss my neck. One hand continued to rub my shoulder from behind while the. " mom's voice was still shaking. "I have never had so many orgasms in my life, not even when that trucker impregnated me with you" "But mom", I complained, "it is obvious that Mr. Randolph wants to turn you in his private whore." My mother looked away. "What's wrong with that Dave?" she asked me, staring down at her feet. I knew she was a bit ashamed too but I wa amazed at how fast she was losing all sense of dignity and self respect. "I like getting fucked by him. I love it when he calls his. More

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