There was something terribly wrong with me. With daddy, as well. I just laid in my bed and curled under my thick, white fleece.Less than one hour late..., I heard the sound of his car. It was way earlier than he usually came back from the bar. I got up instantly, as I didn’t want him seeing me all fragile like that. I had decided to talk to him openly, explain that I wasn’t afraid, or hurt, or angry. Much the opposite, I wanted to hug him, tell him it was alright, and that I felt for him having. ..my stomach flutters wildly just thinkingabout it...)Glenn makes me watch him while he takes the top off a tube of lubricant,squeezing a good palmful into his hand before applying it thickly to thebusiness end of the plug. The plug that he is seconds away frominserting inside me. I wonder how long it actually is - eight inches?Nine? Spread wide open on the quilt, I can do nothing but give themuscles of my poor rosebud an anticipatory work-out. He disappears outof my limited angle of vision,. More

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