She started this little fiasco with who-knows-what intent, and is looking up at me now as if trying to figure out if I’m going to fuck her, or let h...r piss. Well after all she did to me on the couch, she is going to pay for her actions. “What do you mean? Can’t I go pee?” she looks up longingly at me and adds, “please.” “No, I’m sorry my dear, but you are going to have to wait.” I lean over and her head tilts back and edges forward to meet my own. Our lips touch, my right hand grabs the back. We didn’t fool around, we just kissed and talked. Of course, you would never have convinced my parents about that. That is, until they met him. Roger’s honest and sincere apology disarmed my daddy, who was threatening to shoot him with a nice-existent revolver. He so charmed my mother that she invited him in for a very early breakfast. My charming guy not only accepted, he insisted on cooking it for them. It was good too and while he was scrambling the eggs for a Western omelet, his new. She stared me straight in the eyes, her lips so close to mine that I could practically have kissed her. “What do you want to call me, Lee?” she asked teasingly, “Unless you’re scared of older women?” “No,” I blurted, although quite honestly by that point I realized she fully intended to have sex with me. “What about Mr. Cartwright?” I asked pathetically. “I’m guessing that Mr. Cartwright is probably fucking his secretary right now,” she answered sarcastically, “Or getting a blowjob by some. He grabbed my right wrist and quickly looped a doubled up rope around it. He then took my right foot and pulled it up to my hand, realising the situation I was in, I struggled violently for a few seconds before he managed to cross my wrist and my ankle and tie the two of them tightly together. He tied them very tight; I couldn’t struggle at all against the rope. He took his weight off me now, knowing that half tied up I wouldn’t be able to get away from him. He tied the rope to a close by.
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