Maybe this would help him relax and forget his embarrassment.Despite his horror, Peter's cock had stayed at attention. He had just been imagining Cind...'s hot little body when she walked in wearing tight cut off jeans and a T-shirt that showed a sexy expanse of mid-driff. Did she say she wanted to watch? He realized he was still holding his pecker and saw that her gaze was split between his face and the rigid cock in his hand.Peter was still at a loss for words. Cindy knew that if she just got. It still was. There was nothing she could do, so there was nothing to worry about; nothing to be held responsible for — no mistakes, no confusions, nothing. Just nothing.Maybe 'nothing' was what she needed? Her days outside, on her own, had been hell. After fleeing from the priest's porch — holding her torn blouse closed, smelling his piss, feeling the slime on her face congeal — she'd stayed in her house, in her bed for days. Paula tried to reach her, but she'd ignored her calls — even the. More

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