Why was she doing this? Did she really think they would let up? Fuck!She reached for the top edge of her shirt and saw Peter’s phone/camera coming out. She barely stopped in time. She shook her head.“No pictures. And remember, if this gets out and I get fired, you won’t get another show.”“I could find you a wig and some sunglasses,” he half joked.She just shook her head no in reply.He frowned but nodded, putting his phone away.Then she pulled down the top edge of her shirt. This time, she couldn’t help herself as she shook her breasts ... boobs for him.“You like my titties,” she grinned as she pulled he corset top back into position.It didn’t take long for her language to start to degenerate she thought.“Like I told George, only one free show a day.”She almost ran to the bathroom when Peter left. She made her way to the bathroom on the second floor, these were one stall bathrooms and no one would walk in on her.She was so damn horny. Siting on the toilet she quickly exposed her. So I'd finish, collect the towels I'd laid down, wiping myself clean, very gently and then I'd watch her until she finished.Some nights, when she had finished and lain there in cool-down mode for awhile, she would heave a great sigh, a sigh that sounded of resignation, and she'd remove her toys, heading towards the bathroom on shaky legs to clean them and return them to her bedside table drawer.But other nights, when she was through, she would just curl into a ball and sob, sometimes for as long as half an hour or so. I'd sit in the closet, briefs around my knees, watching her and hurting for her, hurting with her, wishing I could hold her and tell her that it would be alright somehow.Karla and I had claimed the attic of the new house as soon as we saw it. The previous owners had made it into a rec room for their kids, dividing it with bookshelves so that a quarter of it, closest to the stairs, was a small kitchenette: shelves, a small sink, a microwave and a tiny fridge. The rest was.
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