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Excerpt:
Sheila opened her eyes as he was pumping his load into her, but his flashlight was off now and there was no moon, so she saw only his dark bulk laboring over her, and even afterward she never got a good look at his face. Probably he wanted it that way. She remembered very little of what followed, so exhausted and delirious was she from her three days on the dike. There were of course more questions, and once again--even in her fuzzy state of mind--she refrained from mentioning her abduction and rape. She asked him if he would please take her to her aunt's house in West Sago Beach, and he said that was eighty miles away, but he would take her to a place where she could catch a ride. There was something about his wife and kids back at the dock and so, naturally, he couldn't take her there.
So then they were in a little boat, speeding through the dark water of the canal, the cool spray flying in her face. The fisherman had (begrudgingly, it appears) given her a white T-shirt to wear. It smelled fishy, Sheila remembered, but she didn't care. Soon the boat slowed down and turned to the left into a narrower canal, almost a ditch, overhung with casuarina boughs. There was no dike here; the ditch was flanked on both sides by cultivated fields, and she could smell peppers and over-ripe tomatoes. Then, in the distance she saw the flash of headlights crossing the canal up ahead. A bridge. A road with cars on it. She had never realized how wonderful such everyday things could be. Surely the dream was nearly over.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
Susan Doku
Copyright © 2017
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
From his observation booth, Simmons could watch the entire main floor, but now he watched only the girl with the coal-black hair and the billowing chest. She walked straight up the center aisle, her deep-creased breasts rising and falling deliciously with every step. By the time she reached the lingerie counter almost directly below his slot, Simmons' cock was iron-hard and jumping in his pants. He braced his binoculars against the polarized glass. She wore a bra, but it was light-weight and sheer and did not prevent the bumps of her nipples from showing through the thin dress; when she leaned over the counter, he could almost see them.
"Hey, Henry, don't work so hard. I brought you a cup of coffee."
"Huh?" He hadn't even heard the door open behind him. It was Mauna, one of the salesgirls. "Oh, hi, Mauna. Jesus, don't sneak up on me like that."
"Here, you better drink this. You were talking to yourself."
"What I'm looking at would make any man talk to himself. Come here and get a load of the tits on this little girl."
"Henry, you're such a lecher." Mauna leaned over the slot. "Nice," she said after a moment, "but she's too young for you. Why don't you pick on somebody your own age?"
Simmons looked at her. "You, for instance?"
"Maybe." She sat down on his desk and crossed her heavy but shapely legs, giving him a quick shot of her panties. "If I wore a dress like that, I bet I could turn you on, too. I'm not exactly flat-chested, you know."
Simmons grinned at her big, round tits. "By God, you're right, Mauna," he said. "You and I'll have to get together sometime."
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!