7:15. I looked at the hours on the door. Monday-Friday 7:00 a.m.–9:00 p.m. Saturday 7:00 a.m.-7:00 p.m. Closed Sundays. I glanced down at the headli...es on the newspaper in the paper box by the door. “Seattle moves to forefront in battle to save lives.” “Loyalists seize Iraqi TV station.”I stared at the paper for several minutes trying to figure out what was out of place. The huge words at the top of the newspaper finally sank in—Sunday Edition.When did it become Sunday? Friday night Riley and I. He said--and I am not joking here--"Women have been having babies for centuries without classes. Why should I pay to have her learn what should come naturally?"So after the five of us ganged up on him he relented, but only after I offered to pay for them. I know it was risky and might have seemed suspicious, but she was carrying my child. A little girl in fact.Then after getting me to pay for the classes, he still didn't want to go because it "cut into his personal time." Translation: the time. When he did I loved how good he felt going in and out of me and how good it felt when he shot his cum deep in my hole. Then I would always lick his cock clean and he would suck his cum out of my hole. We would then fuck every night at least once and sometimes more than once. My mom hated when she had me so she did not pay much attention to dad or myself. She would drink herself to sleep every night and during the day never hardly spoke to us. If she knew dad and I fucked she pretended not to or. “How do you know if I have a vibrator? Maybe I don’t.” She replied, her eyes dancing. “Of course you do,” I said, bringing one hand up and brushing my thumb across a rock hard nipple under her dress as she clenched her jaw. “I’ve pictured you using it many times in my mind, so I’m sure you have one.” She leaned in again to me and gripped me through my shorts a little tighter and breathed into my mouth, millimetres away, snaking her tongue out and licking my top lip. “But it’s not the vibrator.