I’m just a broken down old slapper.”Please, remembering that you will have total anonymity, tell us your story. Why aren’t you worth of Tamara?�...�When I was this one’s age I was already married, to a fucked prick in all – but I was desperate to please him. He wasn’t physically abusive or anything like that – but he had a fine line in emotional torture, and he could make me do things I didn’t particularly want to do. He was obsessed with… “ She pauses, building up courage to continue… “… with. Suddenly the boy sitting across from them was yanked to his feet and replaced by a hulking young man with broad shoulders and tattooed forearms. “Hiya, cutie,” he said with a grin. “Yer new, ain’cha?” His letter-sweater bulged with muscles and the crotch of his jeans bulged as well. Vixen blinked at him. She knew the type and generally avoided the muscle-bound jocks as inferior lovers with over-sized egos. “I’m Mike Masters,” he said, sticking out a hand. “Really?” said Vixen, ignoring his. Raising one leg and bending it covered her fleecy blonde snatch--a little. She realized how vulnerable she was. Naked as the day she was born, aside from her boots, she presented the perfect target for any of those men's pricks.Something moved deep inside her at the thought of all those football players gang raping her. Trying to deny the fascination she felt with the idea was impossible. She didn't want to be gang banged by a couple dozen horny football jocks. She didn't! But she couldn't help. ’ She knew from his sleepy eyes that the coffee would be most welcome. She poured a fresh cup for him and finished off her own before starting up the stairs. When she reached the top, she found him back under the covers, propped up on one elbow looking at her. He grinned as she handed the steaming cup to him. ‘Here’s your bag,’ she said, setting it down on the bed beside him. ‘I found this down there, too.’ She winked at him as she tossed the rope into his lap. He laughed, and took several.