I dug my hands around his dark red shirt wanting it off. Instead he shoved my hands off his body and held them behind my own. His grip hurt. But I wan...ed more than just his touch. His hands pushed me against the bed, holding me there. He was reminding me that he was in control. He was my daddy. My ruler, I was under his control. I was his slut, his slave and we liked it that way. He dug his hands into my flesh and controlled my every movement. He bent me backwards and dragged his tongue over me. " It wasn't always all business. You make it seem like we never had any fun together." We should leave if we're going to get in eighteen today." I spoke up because I was already worried, and starting to get restless about the direction their conversation was taking. Neither of them seemed to make it easy on the other. The longer they discussed their divorce, the likelier it was that their emotions would make them unable to agree on anything positive like the golf learning center. I knew I'd. More

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