He would park in back and watch the people going in and out of the mall of the stores while her pretty head bobbed in his lap and his cock head explored the back of her throat. He seemed to cum harder in public with people around. Probably because he knew how ashamed she was to have to service him this way. But what could she do?She told everyone that they were just friends. That is what she told her Mom whenever she asked about him. She could never admit the truth that he was blackmailing her and essentially raping her several times a week. He was her rapist. But what scared her most was that for some reason it didn't bother her enough.Sometimes when she was at home masturbating in the shower or in her bed all alone with her stuffed toys around her, visions of her forced blowjobs would pop into her head. She would blush at the memory but they always made her wetter. Amber tried to rationalize it but it was getting harder and harder to lie to herself. In fact, it had gotten to the. After I turn off the shower, you decide that you wanna watch me towel off. You stand there, your arms crossed, watching this man who you’ve only just begun to know. His short hair, the goatee, graying somewhat, his hairy chest, his strong arms and back. No, he’s not cut, but he’s still sexy as hell you think. I quickly towel off, unaware that you’ve been watching me all this time until I open the shower door and see you standing there looking beautiful as always. Your smile tells me you like what you see, but I sheepishly wrap the towel around my waist and bashfully grin and turn to look into the mirror so I can shave the stubble from my face. ‘Hmmm, something smells good’, I say. The delicate smell of herbs and spices permeates the cabin. ‘Oh shit!’, you exclaim, ‘I forgot all about it’ You rush off to the kitchen. I can hear the music in the background, a nice saxafone laced instrumental from Roy Hargrove, lilting in it’s melody, yet lively enough to keep the listener.
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