Valentine had raised herself upon her elbow, and had scarcely time to throw herself down on the bed and shade her eyes with her arm; then, trembling, ...gitated, and her heart beating with indescribable terror, she awaited the event.Some one approached the bed and drew back the curtains. Valentine summoned every effort, and breathed with that regular respiration which announces tranquil sleep. "Valentine!" said a low voice. Still silent: Valentine had promised not to awake. Then everything was. Then your father will have something to say, and we both know you don’t want that.”Her words were the same that ran on an endless loop in my head. They were turning into a taunting dirge that prevented sleep and haunted me throughout the day.I moved to the city for a chance that someone would look at my photos and say, “This isn’t just some chick taking pictures of her toenails. This is art!” And, just like in the movies, I believed that maybe after a few terrible interviews, a handsome genius. Bob loved the pictures of her and as we talked about the pictures and when I took them and how much she loved sex he got hard again. So, I lubed up again and laying on my back with my legs up he fucked me again. It felt great but I was very sore afterwards happy but sore. I called Tammy the next day and told her about Bob and the evening we had and how he loved the pictures of her. I also told her how big he was and how sore my butt was in the truck today as she was laughing. I told her. Despite all this I wanted her willingness to invade her lascivious body. For the first time after attack kusuma looked straight into my eyes and asked me in a low and submissive voice, ‘why are you doing this to me?’ I said as clearly and resolutely as that, ‘I wanted to make you mine, I wanted to taste from inside out, and I liked to posses you. I wanted to make my fantasies about you real…’ ‘I am a married woman.’ she said meekly. ‘that is what made me like you. I wanted to fuck a real.