He's wearing a bright red dress that hugs him like it's painted on. Hiswaist is tiny compared to mine, and as he is taller, his legs longer.With a fig...re like that, he's one nose job away from being a professionalmodel.I smile and say, "You look nice tonight...what's your name?" Darla," he says. "And you look like a whore, you little faggot." Bastard," I say and turn from him. I'm fuming. He could be nice, foronce, he could have been nice.I hear him snicker behind me. I resist the urge to turn. He thrusted me fuller, looking down at my face, small rivulets of drool rolling down my face. He grunted, still grasping my throat, and pulsed a heavy load of his gift into my mouth. I swallowed his salty mixture, feeling his cock throb in my mouth with each spurt. He slowly withdrew, my tongue cleaning him as he exited, taking in the rest of his fluid and swallowing again. I lay there, gasping, my makeup running, and Rachel climbed up and rested on my body again, kissing me warmly, her. I'm thankful for a comfortable pair of shoes. I'm sitting out on a small front porch enjoying this peaceful Saturday morning. it'll be warm enough shortly to do a little fishing so I have my pole ready. I work where I can find it. I'm a mechanic by trade and spend alot of my time helping farmers in this area keep their tractors going. Malcolm Williams lives right up the road about a half mile east of here. I'm thankful for him. He owns this land and the place I call home. His daughter Jaime. She casually flicked out one slender index finger and nudged the mousewith it, and the screensaver went away, revealing a group of xterms andCAE windows on a KDE desktop. She squinted, concentrating, andeventually commented softly, "Oh. Yeah. I see what you mean; you got itpretty tight already. Hmm...."She leaned in, scrutinizing first his schematic and then his code,occasionally clicking windows up to the front with the mouse andscrolling them. Even at this angle, he could see the extra spark.