Her mother walked over to her and whispered to her " don't you worry about those dreams pumpkin , they are mearly dreams and nothing more, here drink ...our milk and you get going to school , don't want you to be late now do we" yes mommy, thank you" she smiled brightly in the morning sun shining through window, life was good for the hemmingberg Family, Sarah's father was an accountant and thus they could afford some luxury and sending their dear Sarah to school.Sarah left her home , the day was. But still, I could see how a young teenager could throw away prestigious college in order to be paid to wear clothes."How'd your parents feel about that?"Sarah groaned, "None of your business."I guess I could respect that.I paused for a second trying to think of a way to bring up what she told me in her office. The term 'sex slave' made me distinctly uncomfortable ... but so far, except for one instance in my office, she didn't seem anything like what I imagined a 'sex slave' was.Before I could. "I chuckled, "Stranger going into her pussy; stranger coming out." I loved taunting my wife.Stacy threw her napkin at me.I asked, "You going to see him again?" No, not interested. He's is one handsome dude and is loaded with testosterone, muscles, and sex appeal, but beyond that I didn't resonate with him like I thought I would. He was a good fuck; not great, only good. I think he trades on his good looks for sex, but has never perfected his skills. He's always gotten any pussy he wanted, so. I was watching her, too.When she picked me up she had on the same clothes. I got in and she watched my eyes slide all over her.“I decided to weed the garden, since I was already sweaty,” she said.“It needed it,” I said.“Yes, it did,” she agreed.She put the truck in gear and moved us down the road toward the gate. She stopped and I closed and locked the gate. She didn’t offer to let me drive. The radio was tuned to one of “her” stations. Since it wasn’t the one that played rap all the time, I.