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Tears fell freely as she heard the man walk away, and the barn door close.Why was this happening to her? Despair filled her world, as she lay helplessly stretched over the table, knowing that, sooner or later, other would come and rape her.Why wasn’t Paul there to stop it? Didn’t he care about her anymore?She was past caring as the barn door opened again some time later. She knew what was going to happen, and there was nothing she could do about it. There was no fight left in her. The ropes holding her to the table had taken everything she had, and had remained unmoved.She felt someone move between her legs, and touch her pussy. She steeled herself for the invasion, feeling whoever it was, thrust his hips forwards, his cock sinking full length into her pussy.Like the other one, it was brutal, and loveless. She had never believed men could treat a woman this way, and now she was helpless to stop it.Her head shook from side to side, and tears fell easily, but there was no resistance. I received two cards face down, then one card face up, which was the eight of hearts. I peeked at my two down cards: a deuce and an eight.Dennis had an ace showing, so he started the betting. He threw a nickel toward the center of the table. We were, after all, struggling college students, which meant that we played poker with nickels, dimes, and – if things got really serious – quarters.Barry, seated to the left of Dennis, saw his bet. So did Kevin, who was next in line.Next up was me. I wanted to find out right away who were the real players in this hand. I took a dime from the pile of coins in front of me, casually tapped it a couple of times on the table, and threw it into the pot."I'll raise you ten cents."That left the lone female player at the table, Julia. She squinted her eyes, seemingly not quite sure how to proceed.I was discovering that Julia had quite a tomboyish streak in her. Actually, it could have been more correctly described as fierce competitiveness. She loved.
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Should I call it a scent? Or an aroma? Or is it a bouquet? It is intoxicating whatever I call it, and then I run my tongue along the dampness and taste you for the first time. Second-hand taste, but satisfying, just like standing next to a smoker when you desperately need a puff on a cigarette, but don’t have one yourself. I ask you to turn around. You ask why. I tell you that I am getting your surprise ready. You turn around. I unzip my pants and pull my cock out through the fly, and I stroke myself to orgasm and cum into your panties. You couldn’t help yourself and you turned around mid-way through my self-pleasure and watched me as I filled your panties with my cum. I hand them to you. Your wet panties now filled with my cum. ‘Damn you are naughty,’ you say to me. ‘But I like it,’ you add. ‘What do I do with my panties now?’ you ask. I hear people come into the office outside my locked door. ‘Anything you want to do with them,’ I answer. ‘Anything you like.’ You ask me to turn.

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