Heather. Heather Martin.I sat in the dirt for a good fifteen minutes, reading and rereading the writing on the license. How could I have missed it? Id...ot! Obviously I hadn’t seen the back of the paper when I stuffed it in my tackle box that summer morning last July. As I thought about her note, I realized the ranger had been right. The area code was not the one for Montauk, as I knew from Julie’s number. It didn’t make sense at first, but then it hit me: Heather must have wanted me to phone her. My mother was kneeling in front of him, head bobbing rapidly on his tiny prick. Her hands were grabbing his ass cheeks, while he had one on the back of her head and the other on the counter next to him. My eyes were wide, I was shaken, disgusted, and angry. I turned and left, I didn’t want to watch, although the hard-on I had suggested otherwise. I never caught her again, but I knew it was still happening. For several weeks afterwards both she and my sister were shooting up on a nearly nightly. Dave laid on his back and his cock pointed straight in the air. He told her to climb on. She whimpered as she sunk his cock deep into her, she lent back on her hands and grinded on his cock. She wanted to cum so badly but she just couldn't seem to, she wanted to please him so badly. She climbed off him and stayed on her hands and knees, her firm ass in the air while her head was pressed against the bed. He slid into her tight cunt again, slowly using the full length of his cock deep inside her. ‘Let’s see what I got myself here,’ he said, pulling the sides of the garment apart. ‘Wait, please, Kevin…’ I stuttered, confused and frightened by his behaviour. ‘I’ve had enough of fucking waiting, now it’s time for some fucking screwing.’ He laughed at his own crude joke, a spine-chilling sound, as he took hold of the front of my bra cups and wrenched them down, tearing the lace and the shoulder straps, leaving painful welts on my delicate skin. One of his fingernails had scratched my.
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