I could hear music and caught just a few tunes of Johnny Cash singing, Folsom Prison Blues.Ana came up and sat beside me. Her once bright red hair was...now blond, and she looked like a different woman. She was wearing cut off shorts that looked like they were spray painted on her and was wearing one of my dress shirts that she tied under her breasts. Her hair was braided into a ponytail that went half way down her back.I glanced over at her, and she was sucking on a lollypop and smiling at me as. She's not a slave anymore, but she still wants to do it all the time." I'm sorry Holly. I hoped I was wrong. But you don't really believe you becoming a slave for an hour or two is going to fix her problems, do you?" No, but... I want to help her, Tim. She's my best friend, and has been nearly all my life. I thought of killing myself when she stole Justin away from me. Then he dumped her, and we made up because of it. But ever since she went away to college, I've felt like there was a wall. We spent the remainder of the summerjerking off like maniacs. Stroking ourselves,jerking each other, and shooting themost monstrous of cum loads all overthe place.The next summer I visited again andthe very first night he wasted no timein getting things going again.He said something about "not beingable to acheive the right feeling as hejacked himself and asked if I woulduse my 'technique' on him.So, I reached over, took his cock intomy hand and began stroking himup and down...hard.He right. She thought, This is a disaster! I'm a logical person. I'm in control. I don't let my emotions rule me. I have dignity! So why do I stand here like some kind of shameless slut?!She hated the idea of being a slut. When she thought of sluts she thought of Heather, and the last thing she wanted was to become like Heather. Curiosity got the best of her, though, and she twisted her head around to see what Alan was doing while she was maintaining her pose. She saw that his gaze was roaming up and.
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