"It's me, Dee." Dee? I don't know anyone named Dee," she retorted. "The only 'Dee' I know is a ghost. Go away, whoever you are, I'm planning a funeral..." MISSY! Don't you DARE hang up on me! I'm SORRY! I've had a couple 'a bad days! All right? Don't give me such a hard time! Someone tried to kill me for chrissakes!" Oh Dee," she sighed. "Are you okay?" I'm better. I'm sorry I worried you so." So? Are you calling to invite me to your heroic parade down Main Street?"Was I ever going to live that. If you think you're going to make me feel badly about your failures, think again! I've been here, or at the local mall all day. You've obviously seen me interviewed on Channel 5. I sure wasn't hiding from anyone and I categorically deny any wrong doing by telling the truth to the people of Sparta and the country."I'll gladly answer any reasonable questions that you may have, but you'd better be polite and show respect for all of us victims. We're not the murderers. We didn't look for this. It. Children at such a young age didn’t know any better, didn’t judge as cruelly as teenagers and adults they were often blunt and tactless in their thoughts which was oddly refreshing.It helped that they never called her fat.Oh how she loathed that word.It had been the bane of her existence, she’d always loved sweets, creams and delightful fluffy things that made her mouth water with their sugary goodness.But that wasn’t the leading cause of her puffing up like a marshmallow, whenever her father. I’m already wet, wanting him. I trust him fully, and allow him to take the lead. He runs his tongue from my lips, down between my breasts, pinching each of my nipples. I’m only wearing panties, he just in boxers. I squirm under him, wanting more of his touch. He kneels between my parted legs and hooks his thumbs into my panties. I lift my legs as he tugs them down so he can slide them down my legs. He flings them to the floor, and works out of his boxers with ease. He’s already throbbing hard,.