I could feel my blood pressure rising. The officer who dropped me off suggested that I keep my distance and not try and contact Lindsey. Jack had talked about a restraining order and going to the school while I sat handcuffed. How could I have been so stupid. I knew better, I just hoped I hadn’t sunk Lindsey future. I don’t know what would happen if this got out. If the people from Stanford found out, would they no longer accept her? I felt incredibly stupid and guilty. We arrived at my house, the officer handed me a baggy with my keys wallet and cell. The moment I got inside I called Lindsey. It went to voicemail. I texted her. No response. I texted again, Me :I’m so sorry ! Did your dad hurt you? Say the word and I’ll come and get you:Lindsey’s cell :this is her father! Cease and desist now and I will not contact your work and the school and tell them what a pedophile you are!:He obviously had taken her phone. I had no way to contact Lindsey. My only hope is if Sean can get a. But I'm a bouncy, perky, pokie type of teen-angel and I wasn't going to allow such minor distractions ruin whatever adventures the day might bring. So faster than a ferret down a rabbit hole and speedier than a stoat up a drainpipe and zippier than the unzipping of a zipper to release its proud, penile, prisoner to plunge proudly into a provocatively proffered pussy, I showered, fixed makeup and hair, wriggled into my school uniform, ate a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios to keep me cheery, and sashayed my way out of the house, a vision of perky, pokie, post-pubescent scrummy dumptiousness. A vision with sensitive, hurty, grape tomato nublets rubbing against my semi-sheer, tie-fronted, super-cropped, school blouse, and a pair of over-large, over-ripe, cherries wiggling seductively beneath my pleated, flicky, micro-mini, school skirt. In other words, a feast for ogling eyes and drooling mouths. Which was what greeted me when I made it to the bus stop, and these ogling eyes and dribbly mouth.
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