“Come with me,” she demanded, putting my hand in hers.She led me through the house, taking me to her bedroom, but very obviously leaving the door open.She sat down at the foot of her bead with a soft bounce, and patted a spot next to her.I grinned and sat down beside her, letting her take charge of things.“So, last night was fun, huh?”“Yeah, I guess, I had a good time other than Morgan goin’ all psycho and Shelby drinking too much,” I chuckled.“Yeah,” she chuckled lightly. “About that...”“What? What part?” I asked.“The part with Marcy Macke,” she looked down shyly.That old sense of dread came over me.“I don’t know what to say. I don’t have an excuse or an explanation for that,” I shrugged. “But I certainly didn’t cheat. She stuck her neck out to defend me on that.”“No, it’s not like that,” she looked back at me. “I just, I guess I knew things about you and Melody, but I didn’t know THAT.”“Well, I didn’t think anyone else knew THAT,” I said with a faraway look. “And I don’t know how. They handle her carelessly. Six hands roughly undoing buttons, removing her blouse and bra, her skirt. Their mouths scrabble for her breasts while shovel hands rummage between her legs. I imagine the hiss of nylon over white silken panties. The body of her tights ripped, micro mesh collapsing, shrinking in on itself, and stark flesh left gaping. The tatters of nylon hang like distressed bunting from her waist. Mouths snarl, are unrestrained in the taking of pleasure without thought of giving pleasure. Their tongues roam, take greedy sweeps, her flesh industrially trawled.One man goes down on his knees to worship at the altar of her arse. He removes her panties and splays her haunches and presses his face forward, his tongue delving deep. And then him relaxing his hold on her so her buttock halves collapse, smothering his cheeks while his tongue presses onwards. And I imagine its secret journey, how it would circle her pucker in the secrecy of her darkness.They lift her, toss her onto.
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