He could see her pussy lips, already damp, outlined through them. Alan stiffened in his boxers in moments. ‘So,’ she smiled, voice a purr, ‘read... for me to fuck your brains out?’ Laurel didn’t wait for him to reply. She put her hands on his shoulders, and shoved him backward onto his couch. He fell into it with a ‘huff’ sound as air was pressed out of his lungs, and before he could recover, she mounted him, and started grinding her wet pussy onto his cock. Laurel arched her head back, letting. I was looking for a job and then... The song reverted to normal. Irewound it, and listened to it again, but it was Morrisey singing, andnot a weird message from an angel or whatever.Suddenly overcome by an air of desperation, I stopped the tape. Howdoes one go about proving you deserve to live? It was rather anexistential question to face a fifteen year old girl on a number 43bus at 8.45 in the morning. But I knew the answer, deep down. Live thesort of life that won't make me want to kill. More

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