And she’d call him, “Daddy.” Maybe that was it. Our dad and how he treated us. Let him fondle and we’d get a treat. Let him kiss and we’d ge... a reward. Not just money, though. He’d give us attention. Love. This was so cliché—abused girl becomes slutty. And incorrect. A lot of girls don’t become like this. I certainly didn’t. But this poor girl still needed that attention, that reward of love in the form of penetration.After she was done with her john, she went back to the kitchen, wiping cum. Her gargling delight sounded, as she took his face-fucking like a pro. She would’ve happily taken his cum down her throat, but he had other ideas. “Ride my cock, you sexy fucking bitch. I want to see those tits move in my face as you bounce up and down on my prick.” He moved and pulled her onto his lap. From her position on top of him she felt some level of control come back. She enjoyed a moment of grinding her panty covered pussy against his dick, as she kissed him passionately. She removed. I was a very skinny, very small kid and I liked to play girl games, and didn't like men sports, so every bully in the block would pounce on me, that with some childhood problems in my house was why I had blocked those memories and built myself to be a sports star who everyone thought was very strange but no one dared confront. But all the memories where flooding in, and with that, an even greater obsession about my wrong sex.At the same time, I was very angry at myself, I thought of all my. We spent a lot of time together, clubbing, grilling or hiking in the mountains but our relationship was as brother and sister should be. Kevin and I would never be best friends but he was acceptable as Shelby’s husband so we got on well enough. I met a half black girl named Lonnie, a tall, slender twenty-something with awesome basketball shaped ass cheeks and eyes as dark as the universe and deep as a mystery. She had come to my studio to build a portfolio so she could get into modeling. Since.