As you spun me around to face you I heard you say, "on your knees, you little bitch" and when I tried to resist "no uncle bud, please no" you put your...big hands on my shoulders squeezing hard as you pushed me down "I SAID, DOWN ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES, YOU LITTLE FUCKING SLUT"!! as I sank to my knees, you attempted to force the head of your now fully erect 8 1/2 inch, thick cock past my tightly clenched lips, while I mumbled "noooooo, pleaseeee, nooooo, uncle bud", which apparently really angered. Well... rather nice to talk to and to look at. The "look at" part was completely one-sided of course; none of them ever even glanced at him as a romantic interest. But as a conversation partner he liked to think there was a mutual appreciation. Quite often he'd end up at school late into the evening, lounging on the mats after practice with the girls, chatting about their chances of winning the next meet, what to expect on the chem exam next Friday, or why in the world the theater club had. He had a firm shake but didn’t try to crush my hand; somebody who is self confident but not a dick. They seem to be a rare find these days. “So what have you got here?” I asked, pointing to the newly deposited armload. “Got some eye fillet and my barbecue tools.” He flipped the canvas roll across the bench and every kitchen tool you can imagine, and some you possibly can’t, unfurled. “Holy shit! Are you a master chef or an assassin?” “Ha! No just an enthusiastic amateur.” He began by sharpening. By Friday morning, she had decided that she'd use the weekend to study and get ahead in her reading. Somewhere, at least in the back of her mind, was also the thought that doing this would somehow strengthen her bargaining position with Sonny. She had been thinking, after replaying Monday's conversation in her mind, that he was beginning to act like she was just another fuck toy to him, and that certainly wasn't what she wanted him to think when he thought of her.By the time Wednesday rolled.
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