When they arrived home, Allison gave Chris another fashion show. She was like a teenager, trying on each of her outfits again, asking which ones were ...ppropriate for work and which ones were not. Was he sure that this one or that one wasn't too tight or too short? Could he see through the top? And the most loaded question... Does this make me look fat?Chris danced through each question diplomatically. He told her that his favorite dress, the red one, was definitely not appropriate for work. She. Finding my composure, again, I straightened my back and answered with all the confidence I could bring up, "Thank you very much for checking up on me, but I'm just fine. Now that you watched your fill, you can go."I crossed my arms in front of my chest to give my words more meaning, but the only thing that did was pushing my breasts up, giving him an unfurled view of my cleavage. His eyes followed my movement and stayed locked at my breasts.Not willing to show him again how much his reaction. Was etched on a brass plaque on the door to his office, on the thirty first floor of the old Barnett Bank Building in downtown Jacksonville. The building smelled like old wet books. I opened the door, which announced my arrival with a nerve grating squeal as I pushed it open and stepped inside. One of those prehistoric hydraulic closers took the door out of my hand and returned it to its normally closed position. The office looked as if it had been used to shoot an old Mike Hammer film in. I. We walk to the car, and I unlock the doors, but you take the key from me, and motion me toward the passenger seat, telling Barbara that I'm not feeling well. You drive us home, which you know will be deserted, because I had told you that the boys were out of town. Once in my house, you drop all pretense, and tell my daughter that her mother is a whore, and belongs to you completely. To demonstrate, you order me to drop to my knees and suck your cock. I try weakly to protest, but you slap my.