My hips went down flat as his stomach pressed against my back; I could feel his heat, on me and in me. The scent of sex filled the air; it was heady t... breathe. I was in the bliss of being physically owned.“How would you like it, bitch?” he said in his best Darth Vader voice. Whispering, mousy return: “Daddy, my Daddy, I want you in me so much. Never, ever stop”. And slow it was. We rocked together for a long time. His thrusts within me became the pulse of my life. We were as one body. I lost. Slow hard forceful strokes battering my cervix bringing back memories of my younger years being fucked outside of nightclubs. He reaches back grabbing my arse cheeks pulling me onto each thrust, then he stopped kissing, one last thrust and loud grunt his grip pulling me onto his throbbing cock he delivered his load. His cock slips out along with a load of cum which I hear splatter onto the wooden floor, he said nothing, just zipped up opened the door and left leaving me with my legs quivering. The ground had been to hard though, so her freshly planted flowerbeds became the new ground zero. He already had plans to lay boards over the hole and cover them up with dirt and even a few of the tulips she had just moved from a pot to the bed. When Tim heard his mother’s shrill voice calling for him, he looked down at his grubby six-year-old hands and then past them to his now quite filthy t-shirt and shorts. He could barely see the faded Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle through the grime. His. I learned how to write, how to do convincing arguments. I learned the law. The life locked up isn’t so bad. At least where I was. Everything is structured, taken care of. Life becomes a rythmm. I described it once in one of my books, as being like ‘one of the Ants.’ Then they told me I was free, go home. I had no home, I didn’t even want to go. I was happy where I was. Some money and some clothes, out the door, go be a productive member of society. Yeah, sure. I did find work in a gas station..