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O call me use 'Vincent.'" I smiled at my own joke. "Ok, Vincent," she said. "What can I do for you?" "What do you mean?" "You saved me, and you're in a lot of trouble. What can I do?" I thought a moment. "I don't rape victims We kept walking. The trip was quiet until we reached her house. We were outside her house in a darker alleyway when I stopped her. "You can do me a favor." "What?" Jen's smile was false, probably the alco.
Hol. "If anybody asks, you never saw me. You don't know who, or what, I am. Can you do that?" She smiled. With one hand, she reached behind my head and pulled me close to her. Our kiss was filled with passion, but it was tainted. She put her tongue into my mouth, and we explored each other. She let the kiss go. Her hand traveled down my body, and stroked my groin through the spandex. "Yeah. I can." She kissed me again, using her hands to massage my penis. I broke off the kissing. "Are you sure you want to do this Jen?" He nod was the only answer she would give. One hand reached in.
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Side my pants and she stroked me gently. I kissed her again, and she kept her motion. She lowered my pants just enough to let my penis free. She got onto her knees, and looked up at me. "If I can't see your face, then I'm going to see your head." She smiled as she lowered her mouth level to my crotch. Her t pulled me closer to her. Her tongue swirling around my cockhead, and her mouth sucking away. I was moaning softly when she reached one hand around and ran her fingers down my ass. I couldn't hold out. She felt my body tense, and pulled away. Her hands kept pumping me. I came in spurts, on the sidewalk. She got off her knees, and ki.
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Ssed me again. "Consider that my thank you, Vincent." She whispered. She kissed me once more, a final, deep kiss. We gently pulled away from each other. "Take care of yourself, Jen. I might not be around next time." She turned to go back into the house as I jumped quickly into cover. She turned around, but I was already gone. She shrugged and went inside. I made my way home quickly, dodging any open roads. When I got back, it dawned on me that I was still wearing the cat mask. I laughed to myself as I removed it. It was the only thing not covered with blood, which made me think about the rest of my clothing. I unlocked the back door and walked in. Pete was crapped out on the couch. That was good, 'cause I didn't want to answer questio.
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Ns. Like why my hands were covered in blood. Or why I was doing laundry at four in the morning. Or why I was cleaning my hunting knife. That was two weeks ago. The newspaper played up the "cat vigilante", and is still running the story and its offshoots. The show didn't go over too well, the audience couldn't get into it. I've seen Jen around campus, and I can't help but wonder if she'd like me if she knew who I was. But I'm better rape victims this way, at least Rachel would think.
So. Mr. Shale stopped his car along the side of the road. They were on Highway 3, in a desolate strip surrounded by a vast forest preserve on either side. Jack Shale looked at his passenger, Claire, the fifteen year old girl who had watched his son and daughter for him tonight while he was out having dinner with his wife. "Is something wrong, Mr. Shale?' "Get in the backseat, Claire," he said, his voice having taken on a commanding tone, devoid of all weakness. That was.
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The hardest part, for this was a moment of great intensity. What Claire would do now that he had given the order would dictate the way the rest of the night went. Sometimes they tried to run. The first runner had really pissed off Jack, because he liked blowjobs. He refused to put his cock in the mouth of a girl who was desperate to escape him. He had chased that first runner into the woods, caught up with her, pushed her into a tree. He had fucked her m.
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Outh a bit while she was unconscious, but it was nothing like the real thing. Anyway, she had been a nice piece of ass, screaming and crying as he raped her six ways from Sunday. After that Mr. Shale had been more cautious. He always kept the child-lock on, making it impossible to open the door from inside. Both backseats and the passenger seat had this switch. The windows were electric, so only the most desperate of victims could escape. He hadn't yet had a girl break any windows. Claire sat still, nervously glancing up at Jack's grim expression. She was beautiful. Mr. Shale gently ran a hand through.
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