As she approached home, her anger gradually faded, and she began to despair, for in a few days she would simply not get the money. No, I can’t do that, I’d be like a fucking whore, chasing a thought that nestled in her corner. The thought of what it would be like… stepbro waited for her in front of the entrance, but barely inhaled that he would spill everything and cry, she stopped, and, like the escort offer. As always, he pulled her down into the cellar, leaning her against a dirty wall, riding her tongue in her mouth and hands under her underwear. Then he pulled up her skirt, put her panties aside, and drove her pin to the bottom in the bored hole. That time Maya experienced it quite differently. She still couldn’t get rid of the thoughts of the vendor, and imagining that she was undressing and letting herself go… she wanted more, she wanted, wanted to keep… but stepbro snapped, shook, and sent her one-day supplies to the cone.
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