My parents were more or less groggy zombies and put up no fight at all. Even when we knotted their wrists and ankles to the bed, they only spoke with ...leepy murmurs. Their eyelids drooped, blinds from the outside world. They allowed themselves to be positioned and manipulated like clay figures. ‘No problem,’ I said when we finished, slapping my hands against each other, but as if fate had a sarcastic response, the doorbell rang. Sarah scuttled to the bedroom window and peeked past the curtain.. He started to remove my bikini bottom. My hips lifted as I helped him take them off. He went right back to work on my legs. His hands slowly massaged the inside of my thigh and back down again. Each time his hands rose a little higher until his fingers gently brushed against my shaved mound. He did this a few times with no protest from me. Then he rubbed against my mound hard enough for his finger to slip inside my wet pussy. I didn’t move. He waited a moment in silence and then started to. More

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