"It's about me." You, monsieur?" It's about what I want and what I need, and I need to fuck you."She nodded briefly, accepting fatalistically what I'd...said, and very deliberately, she let go of my cock. She stood up and unfastened the cloth buttons on the left side of her dress. "You need to fuck me because it excites you and because it's been a long time," she offered somberly, and her fingers were shaking. "And when you do it you'll hurt me the same way my father hurt my mother." I didn't say. She's even more nervousthan I am, which is weird, because this is her hometown, her turf, andI'm just a stranger here, I don't know anything or anyone, and alsoshe's, like, what--an adult, right? Hello? Compared to me. I'm littlemore than a kid. Like I can't even order a lame-ass Sam Adams Lite inthis fake TGIF's. What has she got to be nervous about? I'm sort ofsurprised to see it but relieved, too. This is going to be easier than Ithought it would be, I'm thinking. Anyway."So?" So what?" I. More

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