"Oh, you tease, you," she murmured in slight protest, pushing her breast at my retreating finger tip."You ever read anything by Nancy Friday?" I asked... cupping the swell of her tit at her side."Yes... but sometime back. Wasn't she the one who wrote about women's fantasies?" Not to be denied long, she reached for and tweaked her own nipple, pulling it up and rolling it between her thumb and forefinger."The same," I replied. "Did you read the story -- or was it a recount of a fantasy? -- about. I sat there scared as hell and wondering what the hell was going on. I was kidnapped. I was going to be tortured until my daddy came up with ransom money. That shouldn’t be a problem. Daddy would do anything for his angel. Yes, I was a spoiled little girl. I always got what I wanted, and when I didn’t I would just be mad at daddy for a few days and he would cave and give it to me anyway. Where was daddy now? Did he know I was kidnapped? Was he trying to get me back already? If only I. More

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