Instead he had made the short journey to the shop for some milk — all because she had forgotten to buy some. It had been over in an instant and he w...as pronounced dead at the scene. The driver had been a young kid who didn’t even have a license to drive. Aaron’s life had been snuffed out in the blink of an eye — all because of a cheap thrill ride by a stupid boy trying to impress his friends. Eleanor shivered in anguish. The months that followed were bleak, coloured only by a million shades of. My body tingled. They weren’t new - Justine had worn these; this material had once pressed against her pussy. My breath caught as I wanked my cock harder and faster. I very rarely masturbated while standing up and I couldn’t remember the last time I had actually orgasmed while standing. My head swam and I allowed myself to sag forward, my face pressing against Justine’s jumper, my cock inside her panties, my imagination allowing my fingers to rub her crotch. There was so much filth flying. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. O’Toole. Charles Bordune III.” Part 3 She gasped. “Did you say…Bordune?” “I did.” Seeing her incredulous expression, he laughed once more, flashing brilliant white teeth, and then said, “Forgive me. A bit of fun at your expense, I know. I am sorry. Truly, I am. I rarely have cause to laugh anymore. Please forgive me,” then he glanced out the window. “Ah, we have arrived.” They pulled in front of a towering mansion of grey stone that resembled a French chateau. I objected “hey, what am I to wear out of here??” — “Oh, I have a couple shirts in my bag… you’ll wear one of those to the party, besides, It’s always a sign to the other boys, tellin’ them “hey, I got mine, where are yours??”” — Somehow, the idea of being “branded” sounded very sexy and appealing to me — being shown to the world that I was “his property” — at least for a few weeks — yeah, I liked that. Shirt ripped open, breasts exposed, he pulled me tight to him, by the small of my back. .