Period. Put your hands on the bed Angie.” I watched in fascination as she walked toward the bed. “Evan, please." It was a request. She was already...bending over. She quivered in excitement.” “Angie, you get twenty lashes.” He went to my closet and got one of my belts. He gently pulled her skirt up and her panties down. He stuck a finger into her pussy from behind. “You are already wet aren't you, you little cunt.” “Yes, sir,” she whispered. “Count them for me, Angie.” He sent the first blow. His zipper is stuck.” The sexual energy was so thick you could taste it. As Belinda stepped into the circle of admirers on her way to Roger, it closed behind her, leaving me on the out- skirts of the activity. Fortunately, I was not the only one who couldn’t see, and the bitching got so loud that it was decided to put Belinda and Roger’s friend, whom she was still “help- ing,” up on the dining room table. The crowd moved into the large dining room, and. It was a short conversation. Grafton was coming right over; his hotel was a ten minute drive from the Loehmans' house.Before long, Agnes heard a car pull into her driveway. She watched as the driver's side door of the rented sedan swung open and a man with a briefcase stepped out. It was the man who called on her the day before.Ed Grafton was a small man. Agnes thought him to be five-seven or eight as he walked toward the house. He cleared the front fender of the car that had partially hidden. I quickly glanced down, as her movement displayed her chest even more prominently. I looked over the floor, covered with about a half inch of water, towels placed in the doorways to prevent it seeping outside the room. Smiling, I looked up at her, making contact with her pretty green eyes. “Let’s just see what we can do about it first.” I said, moving toward the sink. “Thanks for coming out, Brett. I have no clue what to do,” she said, that frustration beginning to creep back into her.