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That's why you are here." Margret explained. "Is there something more I should know?" Walter hesitated. "No. No, I fantasize about it." He grinn...d. "I fantasize a lot. I fantasize until I can taste it." Margaret squirmed on the chair across from his, tapping the pencil tip meditatively on the note pad. She remembered the call she'd received that morning, and the frantic tone of Patty Anderson's voice as she'd begged Margaret to accept a counseling appointment with Walter that. And it turned out she definitely wasn't his. He went ballistic."Lauren started to unbutton her blouse while looking at me directly in the eyes. I started to tell her to please stop. But when the scars and redness began to appear as her blouse opened, I could only stare in disbelief."Look at what he did to me," Lauren said, pulling her blouse completely open. Tears began to form in her eyes again. Her chest and breasts were covered in a mass of red scars and welts. She was braless, but I could. She visited her father and stepmother during the summers and over theholidays. But it all stopped when her father died. She was not allowedany contact with her brother after that.It was only a month ago that she learned of her stepmother's death. Oneof her father's cousins told her about it. She became angry when shefound out her brother was living with her stepmother's brother and theydidn't want him.They were thinking about placing him in a foster home.That all seemed like water under the. Her long black hair curled perfectlyinto the small of her back, framing her pale face and accentuating eyes sogreen it was almost unnatural. Even through her bricklayers tunic, Fitz hadnoticed her figure more than once -- perfectly rounded breasts strainingagainst the thin weave, small, pert nipples standing erect in the morning cold.He had imagined running his hands the length of her slender waist, over herperfectly voluptuous ass, her taught thighs... He had started wearing a hat tohide his.
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