As she climbed the stairs, her heart raced so hard that she thought it was going to jump out of her chest. She could hardly breathe as she knocked on...Principal Fortune’s large oak door. ?Come in?, she heard a deep, staunch voice direct, and slowly she opened the door and entered the large and old Victorian office. Mr. Fortune was seated behind his huge antique desk reviewing some papers when Trisha walked in. Mr. Fortune raised his eyes over the rims of his glasses and firmly stated,. Although he was not living with us, he used to come to our house regularly and would often ask me to sit on his lap. I was too young to understand his real intentions; I used to gladly obey him.He would make me sit on his thighs, with my little bums brushing against his erect cock in his trousers, my budding tits touching his chest and his hands gently stroking my back and my thighs, which were always exposed as my skirts were always riding high.He used to talk and laugh a lot when I was. Oh my god…’ ‘Mine?’ Gabe asked. ‘Uh…mine? Mine…’ Sloane said grasping for a recovery, ‘Mine friend! I mean, my friend’s son.’ Gabe eyed her curiously, ‘You’re English is horrible. You need to get a refund from that college.’ Sloane couldn’t help but laugh. In the last minute alone she had went through so many highs and lows it was bound to end in mental breakdown. Gabe eyed her curiously, clearly aware of her skittish behavior, ‘You’re acting very strange, you know that?’ ‘I’m just tired.’. .. my report card... I got... got all A's... I'm sorry I didn't knock. I'm sorry didi" he managed to tell her stifling a quiet sob. Before he could take a step towards the door her arms enveloped him tightly from behind. She hugged Rahul tightly; her orb breasts mashed on his back and kissed his cheeks. It was the first time he was judging the relative size of his own sister’s milk jugs by their touch over his shoulder, roused by the outlook he got a moment ago. Rahul: “I’m sorry” he.