I could smell her on my fingers. I put my other hand under the table, undid my fly, took out my cock and started to get myself hard. I called her over... and again put my hand up her kameez and started to rub her through her knickers. “Oh…” She said as I put my other hand up her kameez and massaged her breasts. “Stop” she said as she pulled away. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” “Why?”“Because your only 18.”“So what. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t like this inside you.” I stood up to show her my hard. I was alsoparanoid, I wondered if my mother had somehow discovered the type offetish stories I was reading. On the other hand, in a more logical frameof mind I viewed that as highly unlikely since I had never printed any ofthe stories and my mother is terrible at using computers. My motherbarely knows how to check her E-Mail, that she could find Fictionmaniawas out of the question. The pressure was becoming too much to bear, Ihad the urge to escape from my living situation. I had gotten a new. More

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