“Y– yeah, no. Not going to happen. Just be glad you can get your rocks off using me,” Elia countered with a tone she felt was conciliatory enoug... to disarm Chad’s expectations. Her own expectations, however, were tragically misplaced. She found this out when Chad responded via gripping a hand around her throat. The scrawny dweeb was stronger than he looked, and he demonstrated via threatening to crush her windpipe. Elia fought to draw in air, and with her head held in place the next smack. "That's good," his mother said, then put her hand on his cheek. His heart fluttered. He wanted her to hug him. Sex was great, but he wanted more. He wanted to feel all those things he felt when he was holding somebody he loved, after sex. If he didn't get away from his mother, he was going to wrap his arms around her and squeeze her. She was right, a towel was tempting fate. "I'm going… going to get dressed. I'll try and remember my robe, next time." He broke for his door, ignoring whatever his. More

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