I started to cry telling her that she wasn't a slut but a fantastic mother. She asked if I was ashamed of her and horrified by her behaviour to which ... told her I wasn't and that I expected most adults looked at the same sort of thing. My coaxing seemed to calm her and she slowly turned over onto her back and said she would try to explain what she had done, I told her she didn't need to explain but she was insistant saying that she needed to tell me o that I would understand.I sat and listened. "Let's make this all about you for awhile...let me please you...."We lay back on the bed and we kiss passionately and his hands explore. He caresses my butt, his fingertips gently rub my nipples through the fabric, and he uses his teeth to undo the laces and my breasts fall free. He kisses them softly and blows on them and I'm getting incredibly wet. I reach out and hand him a bottle of warming oil, and he smiles, and pours just a bit on my breasts, and then he goes to town, sucking and licking. The air was fresh and clean, pungent with the myriad odors of moist earth and growing things. It had been late November and Chicago had been firmly in the grip of winter when Chad had left it behind, but even this close to Gardhe's equator spring was fast fading into the warmth of summer and the shade of the trees along the river bank was welcome. He'd said something about it to Mike, who'd just shaken his head and muttered something about "... elliptical orbit, more so than Earth."They had. Unless he really didn't know about the guy in the kitchen—which was impossible—Dan had forgotten to include himself. That hurt. He was just thinking of the four other guys he'd seen (or heard) had sex with me, as though all that mattered to him was watching me being fucked, like I was some anonymous girl in a porno on a screen. I was scared by that. Second, three of those guys had had sex with me at Dan's behest—had been invited into the room by him—while I was on my back with a harness gag.
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