She begged for it, pleading to be mind-controlled into being my girlfriend. To love me. To never be a slut, but my lover. She wouldn't bring home guys...to fuck her like my divorced mother did. She wouldn't fuck the preacher behind her husband's back the way Cherry's mother did.“Ooh, Henry,” Cherry moaned, her pale-olive, round face flushed from her orgasm, her slanted eyes fluttering. She had a pair of firm breasts that quivered as she ground her pussy against her mother's lips. “That was so. Becky was my only friend. She was standing by me, willing to undergo the same harassment that I was enduring, even accepting my indenture to Gina. "Where can we study if she tells you not to come tonight?" She repeated her question."Becky, I'll pick you up on my way home from football practice. I'll have to eat when I get home but we can study in my kitchen," I said, having decided that if Gina insisted I come to her house I would tell her to go to hell."Do you mean it?" Becky asked. Just. More

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