"Plough me. Harder."Now that he could see her face, he saw no image of delight, nothing but what he could only describe as, greed. But this, he though..., was his chance to really give it to her. He slammed his solid rod as hard as he could, felt it mash against some deep part inside her. He repeated it again and again. Yet he felt little sign of pleasure from her.Then her voice came again, "Now, come out of me."Dismayed, Harry thought his efforts were being rejected. He didn't really want to. . when I heard her swallow. And something inside me twisted with horror.After a few minutes, we settled down, and I helped fasten the straps to her dress so that her breasts were covered. I put my wilted penis back in my pants. I stressed to her that this could never happen again. NEVER. And she accepted that. I got us both a small glass of whiskey to get the taste out of our mouths -- metaphorically for me -- and to dull the shock. The shock. Oh god, what had I done?We needed a distraction, so. Sometimes it was a special light that failed in the middle of filming, spoiling the take, or the lunch catering order that was never delivered. There were several suspicious incidents that plagued production, each costing money and time.While Abby worked day and night revising lines, I was wandering the lot watching for evidence that someone specific was behind the problems, instead of poor luck. Abby and I often met up while I was nosing around. We always stole a few moments to kiss and love. I remember as I swung the hammer up I noticed there was a random scatter of rust on the big metal head, and drops of moisture beaded on it in places. I came down hard with the hammer and smashed my father’s stone right where his name was carved into the big gray slab. I relaxed a moment from the effort then lifted the hammer and threw it aside. The slab had shattered in a million places. There was a scatter of gray dust from the broken marble covering the remains of the slab. Lightning lit up.