I want it, I want to drink it. He places the glass on a table beside the bed. I stare at it. He looks at me; I feel his thoughts in my mind. The blood...is an award, if and only if I let him use me and he likes it. I lay still on the bed, as he pushes my legs apart. He takes my ankles and ties them to the post of the bed. His hand moves up my thigh, I love the touch. He looks into my eyes, and I know not to make a noise. His hands move up into my cunt. I love the feeling of his hand there. He. "So what's with you and Peter?" Nothing," her face screwed up and she snorted. "He's a twat." He certainly is," I said as I replenished our glasses."He came to see me once at the hospital and when he saw the bandages on my eyes, he never came back." Oh Mickey," I said and touched her cheek. "I'm sorry."She laughed bitterly."Stop being sorry Dave, he was an arsehole, I was going to finish with him anyway." Really, why?" Help me out will you?"She held out her arms to me and I thought how. Too bad it was true. It was in his nature to be manipulative, so Pete decided he was going to get what he wanted and he was going to do whatever he had to do in order to make it happen. He’d been tortured for months, fantasizing about Deshawn fucking his wife. He called in sick one day at work and told his assistant that he needed several important documents on his desk delivered to his home. He specifically told her that Deshawn was to deliver the documents, no one else, by noon and not a. ‘Please, I’ve been in this business too long to waste time listening to empty flattery. Could we possibly skip this farce and ‘get down to business’ like you so thoughtfully suggested?’ The eyes beneath the mask glittered under the room’s lights, and the boss threw his head back and released a forced laugh. ‘Indeed, Cabrezi. I like the way you think. You have seen the sculptures, have you not? They are very lovely, but are they real?’ ‘They are authentic.’ The boss released a pent up breath at.