Zack then withdrew his invading fingers, leaned over her, and shoved his face into her sopping wet cunt.He darted his tongue out, using the fat area o... it to lap up her juices.“So fucking sweet,” he growled. “Is there anything better than tasting your own sister’s pussy?”Then he darted his tongue in and out of her, fucking her with it.“Oh god…” Melody cried out, wrapping her fingers around his beautiful golden curls and pulling his mouth tight against her aching lips. Her heart banged hard. I get that. But ask yourself this: when do I get to make a decision about my love life? If not today, when I'm past my eighteenth birthday, then when? Nineteen? Twenty-three? I think I was mature and self-aware at fifteen, personally, but OK. A hundred and fifty years ago I'd have chosen a husband by now, or had one chosen for me, be married with at least one child, and maybe another on the way. I'd be trusted to run a household while my man plowed the back forty or drove the herd to market.. He found what he was looking for, then turned around, ribbed vibrator in hand. "Ah, here we go." He approached me with a sadistic smile. Staring into his contorted face, I could no longer tell whether or not he was just playing. For the first time in our eight year relationship, I was scared of him. However, with my legs and arms bound and body exposed, I had no choice but to accept his probing hands and toys. I tried to follow him as he walked around me, but he left my view, leaving. This is one of those times. It was storming outside that night in our little Ohio town with giant claps of thunder and strikes of lighting. I had brought home some stories for my husband to see if I could get him turned on. It must have worked because he asked if it was time to go to our bedroom. I told him yes and we headed back there just to relax and listen to the rain fall as we fell asleep. Well sleep seemed to be the last thing on his mind as he started to kiss my ear and suck on my.