She'd allow me the freedom of her rear garden, the tall fences preventing my escape. Not that I'd ever consider attempting to leave her.On dark nights... she would often walk with me down the quiet country lane outside her home, leading me by a thin leash attached to the sturdy collar that I wore permanently around my neck.The day passed slowly and I ambled around the house, filling the time in whatever way I could until my mistress returned. I heard the distinct sound of her car engine, my heart. It was at a major mid-western university. I was what they called then a work-study student. That meant that in order to pay my way through school I had to work twenty hours a week in one of the university's departments. I had been assigned to the library. Our library had over 5 million volumes at that time, long before computers and online research. This was the beginning of my sophomore year. I worked at the library for three years, but this was the year of my great discovery. It was August. I make it to my bed and lay her down and just kind of fall on top, as she will not release me from her grasp.I roll to the side, and she goes with me and ends up on top. As she looks down at me, there is a fire in her eyes like nothing I had ever seen. I’m wearing a button-down shirt; she didn’t bother with the buttons and just grabbed at the collar and ripped it open, sending buttons flying in every direction.I felt powerless as she continues on to my pants. She unbuckles my belt and pulls. ” she thought. At that moment everything became clear. She had been living a romantic fantasy, he was only after pieces of ass.Teresa turned back towards her hotel, wondering what to do now.She wrote Mr. Jackson an impassioned note. She explained about the pregnancy, her desire to replay him the life she owed him the only way she could. She only asked for copies of the pictures and nothing else.March 24, 1991:On Sunday evening she was back home in Auburn, at her Sam's place. She had come over.
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I’m glad that the CAP tests don’t include the quality of my humor in the scores or I would just be my wife’s concubine. Well, that might not be
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