He stared up at her–his own face–sweat-slick and flushed, her eyes wide and dazed in his male features.

Linda hovered over him, her weight braced on her arms–his arms–her breath ragged in his deeper register. Linda’s strength surged through him, her arms taut and steady, and he felt a rush–part adrenaline, part something else–as he overpowered her. My quest was relentless to fill my fathers girlfriend with my seed. At 45, she carried herself with the confidence of someone who’d spent years climbing the corporate ladder–tall, toned from her morning runs,Gang Rape and still striking in her tailored skirt and crisp blouse.