What if I was wrong? And I have to play back all those old scenes to remind myself of why I left. I hate that I need that. It makes me feel weak, that...I can’t trust myself, that I almost need to let him hurt me again, if only through memory, so I can believe in myself and my decisions. I hate him. Well, I want to. I think. I don’t know. Hating takes so much energy, and all I really want, what I really want, is to forget. To become someone else. And it isn’t enough for everyone else to see me as. If anything, it had made it worse. The young, pretty blonde had, like everyone else, developed a nightly ritual of touching herself. But unlike everyone else, she had not come close to giving herself her first orgasm.She had memorised every instruction, and had tried everything she could think of. It felt good, of course, but it was to no avail. Whatever she was doing simply wasn’t enough.Her request of her teacher, made immediately after the assembly, had fallen on deaf ears. Miss Driscoll and. No, it was the contents of my trunk."Holy shit, I did it." I groaned and let out a breathe I wasn't aware of holding in. Slowly I turned in my seat and looked back at my trunk. Of course, I couldn't see through the car to what it contained. I had to fight the impulse to actually get out and open the trunk to check. That would be really, really bad right now. I only sat on the side of the road for a few minutes. I couldn't afford a cop or some do-gooder stopping to see if I need help. I did need. "Mr Chapman before your.. uh..8o'clock arrives " Stacey my PA stutters, her mouth open. Her young lips moving no words come out yet she looks to getting very warm."Oh Stacey sorry shut the door I will be out in a minute" I reply observing Stacey taking her time looking at the scene before her. A tall naked MILF African American woman bound and gagged, my big white foot long cock upright sticking out of my flies pointed at her. Or maybe it was Cherie and Dave fucking violently on the big.