8
Piper
“Tell me, precious, how someone like you wasn’t married by now. Surely you had a long line of suitors.”
I was once again in Lane’s shirt. Just his shirt, and sitting on his lap. I wasn’t the least bit modest this morning. After what they did to me, how could I be? While there seemed to be a dining room large enough to seat twenty, he seemed to prefer the less formal worn kitchen table where we sat now. He was feeding me bites of ham from his fork. I could certainly feed myself, but I was enjoying Lane’s playfulness. I was ravenous for breakfast since I’d worked up quite an appetite. I fell asleep right after Spur claimed me the first time, but I remember quite well, just before dawn, when he’d f****d me from behind as we spooned. I’d cried out as loudly as the rooster out the op
