He maintained within her broken mind that we were now His. That his choices were all that existed for both of us now, even when that means that she ha... to watch the man she loves fuck another woman. He kept it in her mind that she'd become a fucktoy, and that everyone here now knew her in that way. She had broken down crying again, while he held her on the bed, but she wasn't allowed to remain like that. Leading her from the bed, he took her directly downstairs, puffy eyes and all... with no. "Yeah," joined in Steve."No for real guys. They really showed it to me. Lots. The girls down south seem to be advanced over the girls up here in Philadelphia." Did they let you touch it?" Steve asked."No I was afraid to ask, but Emily Rogers my second cousin, and one of the ones with hair, pulled the hair to the sides so I could I could see it real good. The lips kind of opened and it was all pink inside. I really liked that." Of course you liked it. It was a PUSSY!" said Steve."Damn guy, that. As she stood there looking at the two young men, shirtless and wearing nothing but ragged shorts and old tennis shoes, she felt a rush of adrenaline and excitement. A sudden flush came over her and warmth began to glow in an area that had been far too long ignored. Patricia thought to herself, 'Well, we can’t just stand here staring at each other all day.' In an effort to break the sudden awkward silence, she stuck out her hand and said shakily “Hi, I’m Patricia.” She was surprised at how. Somewhere deep in my conscious Sting likely was singing, "Don't Stand So Close To Me", but it wasn't strong enough to hear. All I could think about was how it was wrong to let her get all wet walking home."Do you want a ride?" I asked."Sure!" she said excitedly."Nice car!" she said when she got in."Thanks," I said perfunctorily. I don't think I could ever get over the fact I owned a Datsun. I'd buy another car if I wasn't still making payments on this one.I drove off."You like The Police?" she.