Back downstairs Sam put some music on the stereo in the living-room and told me to dance for him. He sat on the couch with his legs spread and his hands in his crotch as I stumbled around, trying to dance. It wasn’t easy in the spike-heels, on carpeting and several times I almost lost my balance and fell. Each time I about tripped, my step-brother’s grin would turn-up just a bit. Every so often he’d tell me to do something like, “Rub your titties and show me what a whore you are,” or, “Turn around and bend over, so I...
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