But she could only shake her head, pleading was impossible,fighting useless, she couldn't stop him and she was beginning to realize, withhorror, that it was going to happen. He was going to rape her and there wasnothing she could do to stop him. Along with the thought came a sick feeling,she could feel herself shaking, she could feel the tears she couldn't stopand all she could do is stare. The look in the girls eyes only make him harder, only made him want her more,he knew that she would be tight, maybe even a virgin, he knew also that shewould be dry, her blood would make it easier after awhile, but he knew thathe would need lubricant to get started, and he always came prepared. It wasonly a few short steps to the desk, into the draw and to return with the bottle.He made a point to turn side on so she could watch him smear a thin coat ontohis cock, with what remained on his hands he approached her, she kicked athim obviously not learning from last time. As with before Stephen. She didn't realize how long she had sat as she stared at a clean blank page. Leela imagined Damon stretched out lewdly on the platform - posing only for her. Her eyes closed as his image burned into the inside of her eyelids. His strong body leaning back onto his elbows. Veins webbed across his forearms and his thick thighs dangled off the edge while his cock stood up at attention - throbbing, thick, and impressively large. Biting down on her bottom lip she let out the slightest whimper. That familiar heat returned as she grew wet. Her green eyes flickered open and her expression fell at the empty platform. While he wasn't there she could imagine him perfectly posed. Leaning forward she raised her charcoal to her paper and began to sketch him just as she had imagined - throbbing dick and all. Suddenly a deep voice broke the silence, "Sorry, uh... is uh..." Leela whirled around, quickly reaching to close her sketch pad. Damon stood at the door, his words lingering in the air as he.
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