Since leaving Glasgow, she’d been constantly horny. A bitch in heat! As much as she denied it to herself, while everything that had happened since m...eting that bastard had almost ruined her life, their experiences together had rekindled the fire inside her. Her heightened arousal had always made her more sexually aware. Of people around her. The way they looked. What they might be fantasizing. Like her… The guy sitting in the corner had been watching her for the last half an hour. Of course he. Anton. "But, the refugees are telling us that Ivorian rebels have taken up a village about a hundred miles west of here and might be heading this way next. We're going to push up our schedule and head back to Accra for more seed before heading west again."Marigold scowled, "That'll take a week. You'll never finish in time."Dr. Anton shrugged, "It can't be helped."Marigold looked west as if she could see anything more than a quarter mile out, "A hundred miles is an awfully long way, especially. One night when I denied him, he slapped me around and raped me. He told me that I should get used to doing as he said as this was the way it was going to be. I jumped out of the car and ran. He caught me and hit me a couple of times then fucked me again. All the time he was violating me, he kept slapping me and telling me that I’d better get used to this, cause this was how it was going to be till I got my head on straight.”“The next morning, my dad saw my face and asked me what had. There were very few taxis on the street so late at night, and to make matters worse she had lost the street map she carried in her purse sometime earlier in the night. Truth be told, the whole day had been one foolish mistake after another. But this, she thought, was easily the worst mistake she had made all day. She should have gone back into the club and asked the barkeep to call her a cab. Instead she was staggering down a slippery old cobblestone street in the dark, likely being followed by.
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”... “Okay thank you, Maryann. I will take care of it.”Fran expressed our thoughts with, “Fuck. What the fuck is it this time?”“Our house
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