I knew that nothing would feel right until it lay in tatters. My favorite sweater, the one I’d worn on my first date with Adam, for our first kiss. ...rash. I wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t make me. There had to be a line somewhere, some indignity I wouldn’t cross. It was a silly place to resist. It was just a sweater, after all, but it was My sweater. Call me silly or sentimental, I still would fight. Oh, but it hurt. That creeping, clawing unhappiness wormed and writhed fitfully beneath my skin.. There was something about his voice that had the most innocent words seem so dirty. So one thing turned into another and I had him telling me the things he wanted to do to me, my hand had somehow found its way between my legs and I was so wet I could feel it through my panties. My cunt was swollen and throbbing as one thing after another rolled off his tongue. I wanted him here with me, doing the things he was telling me. I moved my panties to one side and slowly stroked my fingers over my. More

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