That's when I noticed something. “Where's your clothes, Baby?" Laughing with passion in your eyes, you answered, "Well, I don't know about you, but ... cannot give you a massage with my clothes on." Uh-uh, with a sexy alternative idea I bet." Why not? Are you up to adding little sexy tidbits to your massage?"I rolled my eyes. "Continue my massage. I love your hands, they make me feel better." In my head I was saying, 'Outside in.' As usual, I relaxed, my pain decreasing. However, my arousal was. Her chest was heaving and her pussy, wet and juicy, was trembling from the nightmare she'd just had.Six months had actually passed since Amy had contemplated calling the cops on her dad. Six months since he'd physically assaulted her. During those six months a lot had happened: summer had come and gone, a birthday had been celebrated, and Amy had begun the 8th grade at Westmoreland Middle School. What hadn't happened was another attack. In fact, her father hadn't done anything even remotely. More

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