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As she left, she spoke softly, almost a whisper, over her shoulder. "I do... I do still love you, Trev."Then she was gone. He could hear her muffled footsteps going up the stairs and down the hall, fading away. Then there was silence but for the quiet ticking of a clock. Trevor put his head in his hands, his mind filled with anguished thoughts.Through the fog, something seemed to call to him. There was something he was trying to think of, but he couldn't quite grasp it. Through the mist, little by little, it came to him.His mother said she loved him.Trevor got up slowly and went upstairs. Down at the end of the hallway he could see a thin sliver of light spreading out from underneath his parents' bedroom door. He walked toward it, his thoughts awhirl.He knocked. There was no answer. His heart pounding, Trevor reached for the doorknob. It was not locked. His hand, already clammy, slipped on the knob before he gripped it tighter and opened the door slowly.His mother had been sitting on. Well one day we stayed late after class to finish up some moves and then decided to grab a quick shower, the minute I saw amanda in the shower the soap and bubbles sliding over her body I almost lost it, I have to turn away so not to stare, the minute she finished and was going to get dresses I couldn't help myself I pushed my fingers deep inside my dripping wet pussy as the water washed over me and finger fucked myself hard and fast, I was so turned on it took like 30 seconds to make myself cum, my hole body trembling loving what I had just done, thinking about my best friend and pleasuring myself.It seemed that everyday I was thinking about amanda and masturbating, sometimes just a quick one and then later in bed taking my time knowing she is just across in the next bed drove me wild, having to moan into my pillow as not to wake her.We were chilling out one night and as normal were cuddled up on the couch and we had got some wine, so we were both relax and laughing when out of the.
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The secret—my secret—was ***********ing the right ones. I never gave rides to jocks or people, men or women, who were large or muscular. I preferred the small shy timid type. A u-turn at the next exit meant we were back on track to my house. I lived way out in the country on land that had been in my family for generations. We had been slavers and still were, but now I dealt in sex slaves, a special kind that maximized my profit. Thirty minutes later I had pulled the sedan into the barn. A tug on the secret lever enabled me to lift the trap door. In just a minute I had him over my shoulder and on his way to his new life. Once down the steps I dropped him and lowered the door, turning my attention to the combination lock on the heavy steel vault that led to the slave quarters. I stood just inside while two slaves—Jenna and Brandi—demonstrated their obedience and submission by kneeling and kissing my shoes and feet. My fingers tousled their long hair, “Yes, ladies you have a.

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