Please, Roy. Fuck me harder!” I put my hands on either side of her waist and used them for leverage to start pounding her, driving deep into her wit... each thrust and increasing the rhythm. And it occurred to me then that this entire situation was the opposite of anything either of us wanted. Rebecca had always prided herself on being in charge and in control, choosing who she fucked and how. Now she was begging me, a man she hated, to use her like a cheap whore. I had never wanted to hurt. “Hey, Kiddo!” Jay smiled. He had called me Kiddo for as long as I could remember, and would probably still be calling me that when I was 40. He handed called me by name in years. Some days I wonder if he remembered what my actual name was.“It’s like a flower floating thru the air,” he said.“Yeah,” I responded, then grinned. “Like me, a delicate flower.”Jay laughed. “You? Delicate? Yeah, right! Compared to a pro wrestler, maybe.” Another laugh. I had never been afraid to get dirty, and I loved. After this I was putty in their hands. They made me model my pretty outfit for them and practice a number of ultra-feminine gestures and mannerisms. I learned how to carry a purse and sit and cross my legs like a lady. Then they taught me to curtsey and serve as their maid. They smiled with approval and praised me for being so sweet as I performed a delicate little curtsey and served them wine and cheese."Isn't this fun, darling?" mother asked after I'd picked up the dishes and taken them to. And the chance came when I was my 11th STD when our family shifted our house to a new location. We took a house for rent in the second floor. And in the first floor a malyali family was living and in the ground floors the house owner. As days passed away the malyali family started becoming close to our family. My mom used to go to their house and they used to come to ours.There were five people in the family, Francis, his wife Maria, his 3 year old child and his parents. Francis was working in.
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