She was four years my senior, shorter than I, but a bit stockier. She sat upright, the TV remote by her side. I stretched out on my back, my head on a...pillow in her lap. I turned only my lazy head to watch our favorite late night talk show. Every light was off, so the blue glow of the screen seemed like an otherworldly haze in the living room on that spring evening. She brushed my hair, a sensation I relished. Then she began to make one long braid in the back. It felt soothing, a feeling I. Her mother looked like a worn out rag doll lying there begging for him to put it back inside her and her aunt was like a woman possessed as she worked her lips and tongue over the monster. “Don’t stop yet,” her mother begged, “Fuck my cunt with that monster.” “God, where did Michael go?” Jill laughed as she guided Daryl’s cock back to her sister’s cunt, “Your little sister needs some more attention.” At the mention of her father’s name it suddenly occurred to Sara, Where’s Daddy? And, as if. More

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