You like to be my toy don't you? You want me to fuck you hard. Make you whimper, make you moan, remind you that I own you. Every part of you. Hehe...y...u may not want to admit these things about yourself, but they're true nonetheless. You want me to own you. You want me to fuck your ass. Make you mine. Make you beg and plead. Hehe and you're lucky because I fucking love to do it. Oh my fingers are fucking you good now aren't they? I can hear those little whimpers that come out of you. Ahhh they. Stella lifted the second older one and started to strip this one down herself. Joe just looked. She understood where Joe put the other parts and added them to the same piles. This motor was broken. Joe explained how this could have occurred. They dumped this motor. After 2hours Joe called rest. They cleaned up in the shed then returned to the house to clean themselves in hot water. They used the laundry for this. Meg advised lunch would be an hour away.Joe got Stella to change to shorts and. "Whew!" The psychiatrist slumped down in the bed, sensing that his wife was still awake beside him. Although she was absolutely motionless he knew that he was in double trouble. His wife was going to give him a hard time because Helen had given him a hard time on the telephone. Not for the first time, Stan considered going into some other business. Well, at least he'd managed to calm Helen Randolph down. But he wasn't at all sure that the advice he'd given her had been correct. Perhaps he'd. ‘Fuck it, then,’ he said as he stepped off the ledge. His eyes closed and he drifted back to one of his fondest memories. ************************** It was Christmas, and he and his girlfriend were curled up in his living room enjoying some brandy before the fire. ‘I love you, Jill,’ he said. ‘You know that, right?’ ‘Of course, Bobby,’ she replied with a kiss. ‘I love you, too.’ ‘Then prove it.’ ‘How can I do that?’ He had planned for this moment. He pulled out the Harry Winston ring he had.