For three days. For forever it seems. He has done nothing but humiliatingly stick his cock up my ass. He has reduced me to a piece of meat. And I can�...�t stop thinking about him, about his fat cock, about sex. it is like some grotesque variant of Beauty and the Beast. I find myself actually feeling sympathy for him. I find myself needing him. If I am honest with myself I will admit I find myself wanting him. And what he does to me. What he makes me do. He exudes power. Mastery. Images of that. There, before her, stood Harvey. Her heart stopped. Harvey has been coming to St. Agnes church off and on for the last three years. He was somewhere in his mid thirties but years of living on the streets made him appear at least ten years older. He was missing a few bottom teeth from the side, but it was a facial flaw one tends to forget the moment Harvey took it upon himself to honor you with a smile. He had one of those smiles that were infectious. It was big and bright and seemed to light up. Before the thought even completed the circuit through her synapses she found that her hands, of their own volition, hooked behind her knees and pulled herself back and open, he knew he had her but he wanted her to desire this so completely, that she would reach for him, in fact, she would beg him to take her ass. Champagne was beside herself, she had no idea why he had not taken her last virginity. She had opened herself to him, all but begging him as he smiled at her. She thrust herself upward. Why was her heart pounding? He wasn’t that good looking. But there was something, a tingle between her legs, a slight blush to her décolletage. This man was not a boy, it was certainly clear. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Why don’t you take me back to your place Elle? I can feel how tense you just got, let me relax you,” James said, his hand placed on her black skirt, and pushed her legs apart a little. “O-ok, J-j-ames,” she stuttered back. What was she doing? Elle thought, he’s said no.