I grind my body against his and he laughs, laughs knowing the power he holds over me. Laughs knowing I’m helpless to stop him. He traces the lines o... my face with his finger, traces the path of his fingers with his kiss. My breath comes in gasps, I whisper his name. Putting his hands firm on my back, he smiles. His hands, moving leisurely, down, up, around. His hands, how many times have I begged to have those hands on me, I want to beg now, beg for more, beg for anything he is willing to give.. " She then began rubbing his leg and moving close to his cock. Jim looked at her and said "Want to go some where private?" She said "I thought you would never ask."Jim grabbed her hand and pulled her out of there and headed to a motel. Out in the parking lot he grabbed her and kissed her giving her a lot of tongue. She responded tonguing him back. He pulled the top of her dress down to her waist and began sucking and kissing her huge tits. He slid a hand between her legs and was amused she wore. By his way of thinking, more than a mouthful was a waste, and sitting on a telephone pole wasn't a thrill; it just fucking hurt. He also didn't care for the hairy apes, thinking of one senior who was so hairy that his dick looked like a button on a fur coat.Of course, he had been through the wringer with every type of bullying known to man, but quickly learned to adapt, using offense as his best defense. The jocks had actually come to admire him. In a way, he was “their” fag, and they relished. Outside was a short corridor with a few file cabinets in it, and through an open doorway across the hall he could see a cluttered storeroom. Or perhaps it would be better termed a room with mounds of junk. The patterns of light showed there was a window in that room out of his sight to the left. Way to his left he could just barely see a small dirty window set high in the wall, which made sense for a basement."Hello?" he asked tentatively at first, then louder, but no one answered. The room was.