A.-paper 'Sexual Anthropology' in timeSUSAN'S STEPS into voluntary SEXUAL SLAVERY at Mentor Master PETER PE is a long story to tellSUSAN'S STORY is no... new -- we are back in first half of the eighties -- at his old wood-port quartersSUSAN'S STORY in her words is written well worded, but it lacks proper paragraphing for liveliness"SUSAN'S STORY needs an Experienced Editor" I state in my comment under first part I read of herSUSAN'S STORY may need a couple of dozen well written intimate. "I walked away without another word. I went straight to my tent, crawling in and collapsing on my bedroll. I barely managed to unbuckle my chest piece before I passed out.I didn't hear anything for the rest of the night, but my subconscious must have been listening, because when the song I'd chosen was played in the tent next to mine, it haunted my dreams. I couldn't remember the images when I woke, but the melody of Shania Twain's "It only hurts when I'm breathing" was stuck in my head.Hope. It went long and straight. Right down the fairway. My Mother stepped up and I noticed the bottoms of her asscheeks peering out from below her short skirt as she stepped up to swing. At that moment I also heard raised voices from inside the clubhouse but couldn’t make them out. Mom swung and it sliced slightly to the right but remained on the fairway. Chris stepped up and I heard a definite, “This’s bullshit!” come from inside. He swung and drove it straight, further than mommy but short of. His hands went under my panty. Oh! His hand skills again!! I was wet already. He rubbed my pussy with one hand and with the other he was holding one of my breast & giving a blow job to my nipples. Then I pushed him a bit & slid my hands to remove his pants and underwear. He was already so hard. It was like 6.2″ long. I gave him a hand job for a while. Then he pushed me back on to the bed. It was like a missionary position & we started kissing. This time it was deep, we sucked each other’s.