‘I take it back, I don’t give a fuck about you.’ ‘What?’ squeaked Miranda. She wondered where Skyler’s tenderness had gone. ‘I don’t f...ucking love you, Miranda.’ ‘Don’t swear so much Skyler,’ chirped Miranda. ‘Do I swear too fucking much?’ Miranda got back under the covers. She felt a warm sensation in her tummy when she thought about the weekend. Saturday was all about sex and music and unbridled laziness. ‘Why did you tell me about your fucking marriage?’ Miranda’s eyes opened and then her. I ran up stairs and Mom asked me to come into her bedroom.She was dressed in a short black, classic 'french-maid' outfit complete with small frilly white cap and apron. Her breasts were popping out of the low cut top and I could not stop staring at them. She smiled and called my attention to her legs. She lifted up her skirt six inches and showed off her stocking tops. She asked me if they looked 'OK' or should she change them for 'fishnets' ? I carefully looked at her high heeled, black nylon. I can’t know if you don’t tell me. Go on, try to convince me that you needed it.”“What, you want to hear my life story?”“In my line of work, I’ve heard plenty. I’ve seen men cry into their drinks, obsess over the girls upstairs because they were shown a glimmer of affection, and rot away in despair. You’re just another man trying to climb into a bottle. What chased you into it?”Daniel took a long drag and released a column of smoke. He watched it float up to the sky, as if to take its place. My upper body was flat against the bed, my arms spread out. I turned my head to the right and looked into the large mirror on the wall as Eric rammed his cock back into me. Again, he wasted no time. He put his arms on the center of my back and pushed down as he began to hammer away at my tight, 20 year old vagina.A loud slapping sound could be heard every time his pelvis hit my ass. The headboard looked as though it would break as it bounced off of the. Eric was calling me every name in the.