Well, this is my life. It’s the same every single day. I get up, get dressed, go to school, and some how I’m always late. Somehow lateness is just...attracted to me. Something bad will always happen. First day my shirt got caught in the car door and ripped – so I went home to grab a new one. Second day my un-coordinated self wasn’t watching were I was going and bashed into the big birch tree out the front of school. I spent the next 10 minutes thinking my nose was broken and trying not to cry.. When I was young we moved to the United States. We moved in with my aunt, she lived just out- side of L.A, near the fields; that’s where my father began working, while my mother cleaned houses for high class white people in the suburbs of L.A. I guess it was when I was teen that we moved again, my dad had been working as a mechanic part time, and my mother was making good money. My father was offered a cantina (a bar) that was near the fields and he bought it. It was an old place in a. " I can't help it. You are teasing me so good. How do you know how to do that?" I am just doing you like I want to be done."At some point Amy slipped the tip of her girly-cock inside of my virgin asshole. She was so patient, and she massaged my hole so good, that I didn't quite realize when she had first pushed inside. She rubbed my back, my hips, and my ass while she worked the tip of her strap-on dildo into me. I felt so relaxed that I pushed back on to her shaft."Oohhhh fuck, baby. I can't. I panicked, because I knew there and then, someone must have been watching me, and I sensed real fear.I wanted to run, but I was scared, I new I had to get them back and I trembled, that was when the light went on.I was fully illuminated as the light from the kitchen window bathed me, and then he stepped into view and studied me, as I stood beside his Wheely Bins, like a criminal returning to the scene of her crime, and likewise, he held up my soiled panties as evidence of my wrongdoing.In some.