Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
The rest of the school day passes in a blur, and when I come home, I force myself to do my homework, knowing that keeping my grades up will be instrumental in my attempt to get my father to change his mind about letting me go to college. But it’s hard to focus. Again and again, I see the dark figures in my mind’s eye, with their flashing blue eyes and chiseled bodies. Bodies which made my mouth water, and which make me go wet even now. The memory of how they took me at the same time, while holding me down and making me come, makes me shiver with lust. I manage to finish up my homework, but it takes much longer than usual because I’m so distracted. It’s dinner time before I’m finally done.
As I take my seat at the dining table, everything seems more or less normal. My mom’s on one side, looking like an Ice Queen, and my dad’s got the paper with him. Even though it’s dinnertime, he still wants to look over a business journal or two.
I sit in the silence and eat my food. Should I bring the subject of college up with my father? But one glance over to him, where he’s reading while shoveling peas into his mouth, changes my mind. Given the hard brackets around his eyes, he’s clearly in a terrible mood. Maybe he lost money today. Meanwhile, my mother eats in silence, picking at her food with bird-like gestures until my dad looks up at her with annoyance.
“Marisa. You think that maybe you can show a little more appreciation for our chef by actually eating the dishes he’s prepared?” he barks, glaring at her. My mother sighs almost inaudibly and tries taking a bigger bite of the swordfish. “Do you think I’m made of money?” my dad continues ranting. “That I can splurge to make sure you get the finest cuisine – only for you to not even eat the damn food?” he continues, smashing his fist on the table and making us both jump. I continue eating, afraid to look up from my plate. But I can’t escape Roger’s fury.
“And you. Always stuffing your face,” he continues, his rant now directed at me. I stop mid-chew, terrified of what’s coming next. “I swear, the two of you are the wrong way around. It should be you, Annabel, eating like a fucking bird. You could do with some trimming down.” My face glows hot at the insult. “While you, Marisa, could do with some fattening up. I swear, you actually had tits when we got married, and now I’m left with a fucking scarecrow in bed.” This finally makes me look at my father because I can’t believe how horrible and rude he’s being. Even for him, this is beyond the pale. He must have had one too many whiskeys before dinner.
But I’m getting tired of his bad behavior. I’m tempted to speak up, but then again, what would I gain? Probably nothing. So I wait until he stops railing. I don’t touch another morsel of food while my mother tries to finish everything on her plate. Tears prick in the corners of my eyes at how awful my family situation is, and how unfair. What have we done to my father to make him treat us this way? What kind of a man takes out his frustrations on the women in his life? Why is he like this?
Finally, I make it through dinner and find myself in the sanctuary of my own room once more. I’m burning with purpose now. I need to lure the criminals back to my bedroom so that I can see them again. My father’s insults about my body are nothing new, but after finding an outlet for my desires last night, my quest to see my lovers takes on new meaning. I’ll show my father that I can be adored for who I am. I’ll show my father he’s got less control over me than he thinks. I’ll show him that even though he thinks he’s king of his castle, there’s stuff that happens under his own roof that he’s got no clue about.
Amusement at this rebellion makes me smile and tremble at the same time. I’m going to make those men come back, and I’m going to do it tonight. Stepping into the en suite, I shave my pussy for the first time ever, along with my asshole. The sensation is odd and ticklish, but very arousing. If the criminals do come back, I want them to find me bare and pink and ready for them both ways. I moan a little as the razor trails my sensitive flesh and then bend over. My ass blinks and winks a bit, but I smile while looking at my plush folds in the mirror. Perfect. Pink and tight, just the way they’ll want it.