The others waited. The silence felt like it was pushing on her chest. She took a shaky breath. “They were callin’ for help. I cannae shake it. Now...every time the wind blows through the trees, I hear it echoing in my head.” She sighed “When my da died, he called for help too. I couldn’t save him. I...” she swallowed. “I killed him.” Her eyes were rimmed with red, but she was so tired and drained that no tears came. She felt like someone else was talking. “Those things ... I know we had tae, but. .it was Phyllis, making the moaning sounds that came when she was aroused!Carefully, slowly, I peeked around the edge of the door.And there she was - backed up against the kitchen counter with a young man (obviously the delivery courier) mauling her breasts. Her hands were groping at his crotch, obviously trying to liberate his cock.I did the only thing I could do: I pulled out my stiffening tool and prepared to enjoy the spectacle.I have to admit, the young man had an impressive cock. Not. Monica walked around, bent over so she was half-lying on the desk, perfect bottom almost at Houlihan’s eye level. “Spread your legs,” he whispered. She did. As delicious as she was, Houlihan didn’t want to actually touch her with his fingers or his body. If it came down to being busted, he wanted to be truthful when he said he never laid a finger on her. In a way, it was a carryover from his Catholic upbringing. He felt that if he didn’t touch himself while masturbating, it didn’t count. A. Sir," discretely leaving to seat a couple that hadjust entered."Look, Rick, you're a nice guy, and...." So? It's the fucking nice guy that always seems to finish, always. Shit!You look and listen, miss rich bitch and fellow(?) dykes," Rick said,continuing his verbal tirade, "your fathers sit on Boards of this, Boardsof that. My father works with boards - he's a carpenter. So, I guess yourmoney just gives you the privilege of pushing around all those youconsider beneath you - those people who.