“Really?” I asked. “Yes,” she said simply before kissing the tip of my cock. “What are my options?” I asked. “What do you mean?” �...�Tell me all the ways you’re willing to make me cum,” I said, keeping eye contact with her. “Well,” she began, kissing my cock again, her hand gently stroking the shaft, “I’ll bend over again and you can fuck me…and this time you’re allowed to cum inside me.” She smiled. “But I think that might make me cum too and I’d like this to be more about you so, I can suck. She was in the process of explaining the trip to the gas station, whenshe discovered that Sean was no longer listening. Instead she wassitting at the kitchen table, painting her toe nails a matching pink andhumming some sort of pop tune."She has trouble focusing. It's not her fault, please don't beoffended."Amber nodded and continued telling her story, finishing with herabduction from Carl's funeral. She felt a slight pang of anxiety as hermind wandered over Pete, and how horrible he must've. She was able to look past the social and psychological meaning of what had been done to her. She said she had asked herself a question. That question was, “what does this mean for me and only me”? In truth, she realized that it had very little. She was alive and nothing anybody could say or think could hurt her. The pain, yes it was unavoidable, but it was more than tolerable when she considered it not as an attack in terms of sexuality, but just harm inflicted from one person to another,. Chenosh felt an odd warmth creep into her heart as she saw how brave he was being. She simply couldn't be hurt like him, so she couldn't possibly understand why someone wouldn't just be overwhelmed by it.A gun fired behind her and she felt the impact of a shotgun shell hit the back of her head. Lucky enough instinct again had saved her, before she could even think about it. In her panic she must have dropped the shotgun on the floor, and her intended victim had decided to use it. Glancing over.