“Councilman? Is that what you call him? Doesn’t he have a first name?”
logical. She was still young, considering the fact that she was my mum, and beautiful,
“It is!” she chirped, like that made it all the more wonderful.
“Easy, easy. It’s me,” Jake said, sliding between the sheets. His hands and feet were like
I subsided, heart thudding hard. “I thought you couldn’t make it tonight?”
the lace window coverings. I heard flecks against the glass panes.
goats, disemboweled cats. Once I saw a cow’s tongue nailed to a tree.”
first instinctive resistance, always careful, always taking his time, although it wasn’t
I sighed, pushing back, and his finger slipped inside the dark heat of my body. I
He eased the second finger in, teased a little, and I caught my breath.
behind me, his hand stroking the curve of my ass, lingering. The head of his cock whispered
braced stiff, his cock buried deep in my body, I rocked back against Jake’s hips. He shoved
hip, holding me in place as he thrust hard. His other hand wrapped around my cock,
my free hand to join Jake’s, working myself.
We knew each other well by now, knew what we liked – and when we liked it. It was
Like now.
Jake’s hot breath gusted between my shoulder blades, sending little chills of sensation down
over and over and over.
nerves and muscles and bones. I creamed over our joined fingers, his hand slipping a little in
again while pleasure echoed through me.
He kissed the back of my neck, and I felt my heart turn over. The sex was great, but it
a thing about never loving anyone but my father.”
Professor Snowden.
film and fiction.
Resource Center. I don’t know if they were offering this back in The Day. My father
the old alma mater. That suited me fine, as I was attracted by the university’s proximity to
to the Sculpture Garden, which was about five acres of grass and trees and studded by the
jacaranda trees were in bloom.
It looked like a concrete slab of Wasa bread.
two hundred, indicating Professor Snowden was either popular or an easy pass. At the
of the class.
kid’s cartoon were dangerous. He had an attractive speaking voice with a hint of a British
for occult suggestion and demonic influence. The idea being that if your brats are going to be
More laughter. Nothing like a captive audience.
Snowden stood at the front surrounded by a flock of the faithful, mostly female, vying
them with smooth ease.
and Birkenstocks and a T-shirt that read, I’m not Satan, I’m merely one of his highly placed
minions.
When he smiled, which seemed to be rarely, it transformed his face, and I had a hint of