I was ready to forgive you too, now that I went and repaired the damage that you caused. That's what I deserve, I suppose, for trying to help you to i...prove yourself. I shouldn't have bothered getting Brenda to forgive you and stay friends with you." How does screwing Brenda help me Barry? It doesn't, that's how. You're trying to twist things so that you don't look bad, but it won't work." When I dropped you off yesterday you were all upset and crying because you thought you'd lost your best. She clenched her teeth, threw up her head, and held on tightly to the legs of the stool.“Is this the first time to receive the cane?” One of the men asked.“Yes, sir.” Melissa answered. “I never knew it felt this bad.”“Well, you have nine strokes left.” One of the men said. “You can yell and scream all you want because no one will hear you, but stay in position.”Then she felt the tapping on her bare bottom, the whistle, and the pain from the next stroke. Melissa yelled out, “Ouch, that. I had no intention now of honoring my wife's wish that I bump uglies with the former love of my life. Today, right now I would happily settle instead for my one-time ex-girlfriend not screwing up sixteen years of literary achievement by making my hardboiled detective the laughingstock film equivalent of 'Brenda Starr' or 'Battlefield Earth'. A film so god awful that it would poison the media well for any future reattempts to film the property faithfully and properly, either for the big screen. Guiding my length towards her, I was soon sheathed in the tight confines of her tunnel.She adjusted to the intrusion quickly, my hands gravitated to her hips and we began fucking. The railing vibrated behind me like a tuning fork with each thrust, her soft sighs and groans tickling my earlobe. I bit her shoulder as she clasped my head with urgent fingertips of one hand, using the other to steady herself on the railing and pull into me.I'd never wanted anyone more. She represented something that.