”“I fucking hate you,” I shouted and pounded up the stairs to my room.As I slammed the door to my room a movement in the corner caught my eye.�...Grant, what do you think you’re doing?” I hissed.“You know damn well what I’m doing up here,” he said coming towards me slowly, “I heard how you were talking to your mother; it was completely uncalled for young lady.”He dragged me against him, so my back was to his front and crammed his hand down the front of my jeans.“Already wet and ready,” he murmured. When she was through unbuttoning her dress she took if off her body, carefully folded it and laid it on her chair. She was wearing a white slip or chemise or whatever women call those things. She smiled at me, a bit uncertainly and pulled the garment over her head and off of her body. She was now wearing a serviceable white bra and what appeared to be plain cotton underpants. She looked at me and said, ‘Should I continue?’ ‘Yes please do,’ She interrupted with a shush and said, ‘I asked you. More

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