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To a whole crowd of the horny little bastards!"He seemed a little more upset at that. "Damn, that was stupid of her! To be sunbathing in the nude? Right out in the yard? I know we have those hedges, but still ..." He shook his head, and then smiled wryly. "Still, I have to almost feel sorry for her, those punks blackmailing her like that, being forced to let them play with her, have sex with them." He glanced at me and asked, "You said a whole crowd? And she's having sex with all of them? How many, did she say?" As I recall, there have been eight of them for a while now, all taking turns. Or using her two or three at a time."Strangely, Allan was not hugely upset about her having all that sex with these boys, and continued to seem curious and interested about it, asking me more questions about what his wife had been forced to do. I explained that I didn't know everything, just what Anna had described to me when she asked me for help. I showed him some of the pictures the. I couldn’t wait to flick my tongue all over that hairy pussy and lick that big clit of hers. I pulled off her boxers and her black panties and started to nibble on her neck, and then down to her tits. Licking those tiny nipples was so erotic, I was starting to dribble pre-cum thinking about licking her pussy. I started to head south kissing her ribs and then her tummy and belly button when she stopped me – “Just touch me to get me wet, it’s dirty down there.” I was so mad, but I sucked it up and said, “OK”. As I moved back up to kiss her lips, I reached my hand in her pussy and began what had become a regular routine. I rolled my eyes and unenthusiastically rubbed her clit. A few minutes later, she arched her back and had her orgasm, telling me how good that felt. I was ready for the standard, “Let me rub your dick, Sam” when she surprised me and said, “I still want you to fuck me”. She pulled off my shorts and I started to get on top of her (her standard position), when.
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He understood. ‘That’s not important right now,’ he said in the tone he used when he wanted me to know what he was saying was important. ‘What is important is you getting better and out of this place.’ Pop was right. I knew he was, but it was hard. ‘I feel fine, great even,’ I said, knowing he didn’t quite believe me. Neither had the doctors who came in earlier. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I didn’t want to rehash this argument again, but one point stuck in my craw. ‘How can the doctors have no idea what happened?’ I asked yet again. According to my parents one minute I was in class listening to Mr. Hardgrove and the next I was having convulsions on the floor until I finally fell into a coma. That was pretty much all anyone knew. ‘John, I know this is difficult to accept, but getting angry isn’t going to help,’ my father said. Again, I knew he was right, but knowing and accepting were two different things. I felt lost and confused. I loved my parents, but they weren’t.

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